


Corporate Punishment

by lilbonnieparker



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Eren is a broke college kid, Interns & Internships, Levi is Eren's boss, Levi is a CEO, M/M, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Pining Eren Yeager, Possible sugar-daddy relationship if you squint, Praise Kink, all that, background eruri- well they're married, jean is annoying, sort of BDSM
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:08:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22356928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilbonnieparker/pseuds/lilbonnieparker
Summary: Jaw locked into place, he ground his teeth together as he replied, "Writing is not my strong-suit, sir.""Flirting overtly with married men is, it seems."-Eren interns at one of the wealthiest investment and management firms in the country.
Relationships: Background eruri - Relationship, Levi/Eren Yeager
Comments: 185
Kudos: 436





	1. Trost's New Adventurous Affair

Spontaneity was sort of his thing. Nobody could ever call him a planner, and Eren never claimed to be one. When it came time to pick a major in college, and a career for the rest of his life, Eren decided to get a degree in business; it seemed reasonable enough and it kept Mikasa off his back.

Now a sophomore, Eren still had next-to-no clue what he wanted to do for a career, or even what sort of business he wanted to study. Accounting, finance, admin; they all sounded boring and made him tired just to think about. He'd considered, more than a handful of times, that college just wasn't for him. But if he ever tried to drop out he'd likely end up working at a fast-food joint and living with Mikasa for the rest of his life. That reality was worse than calculus, so he suffered through. Of course, Armin was faring much better in his studies. Eren didn't understand how he could be so eager to learn, eager to _study_. Human resource management couldn't possibly be that interesting, but then again, Armin had always been a natural student. It shouldn't have been a shock to Eren that things remained the way they'd always been now that they were college students. There was also another key point; Armin attended one of the top-rated schools in this part of the country, just a short distance away from Eren's unequally-honorable community college. Living in New York City meant opportunity around every corner, or so they said. For Eren, it was more like finding examples of what-you-could've-been around every corner, and Eren got enough of that in his own apartment. 

Living with Mikasa and Armin wasn't bad. It saved on rent-- and in NYC, rent was an absolute bitch, worse than Armin when he ran out of hair products. Other than Mikasa being an ever-constant foreboding presence, and Armin insisting Eren would amount to nothing if he didn't make flashcards, life was pretty decent. 

The apartment was a whitewashed 3-bedroom on Lexington Ave, situated above a convenience store near East Harlem. This part of the city wasn't bad, either; crime rates had decreased in recent years and the sense of community was hard to beat. The nightlife wasn't movie-worthy, but it wasn't like Eren had the chance to sneak out of the house very often in the first place. Almost the entire apartment had hardwood floors but the bathroom walls were an atrocious faux-marble wallpaper, so you win some, you lose some. Mikasa had effectively put down giant rugs in every room, not liking the sweeping that hardwood required, but Eren left his room relatively bare. He had his four-post bed, nightstand, and dresser. The dirty clothes that consistently littered the room practically served as a rug, anyway.

Dropping his backpack onto the laminate-tile floor of the kitchen, Eren pulled open the refrigerator door, scanning the contents in search of something to drink. Dissatisfied, he shut it with a little too much force, causing it to wobble and shake in its place. Mikasa wasn't home yet, but Armin was sitting on the couch, laptop open on the coffee table and scribbling rapidly into a notebook. Eren took it upon himself to plop down next to him, feeling suddenly very tired from the day. Armin gave him a sideways glance and set down his pen. 

"How was class?" he asked. Eren hated that question. 

"Boring," he answered, monotone. 

"It probably wouldn't be if you actually attempted to be interested in the material being taught," was Armin's backhanded reply. He was trying to be helpful, Eren knew, but it was incredibly difficult to remember this fact when actually listening to him talk. "You're going to be doing this stuff for the rest of your life; you could try to care a little."

Eren said nothing, only looking ahead at the muted TV and biting his tongue. It was easy for Armin to say that being boy-genius with a full-ride to Columbia, while Eren had to beg for loans every semester when his scholarships kept getting ripped out of his hands because of his grades. Eren was trying his best, harder than he'd ever tried in high school for sure. But between working a job he couldn't afford to lose and dealing with professors who hated their jobs and joy in general, it was becoming increasingly difficult to give a shit. 

"Did anything exciting happen today?" Armin asked now, sensing the tension and deciding to change the subject. He'd gone back to writing notes feverishly. 

"Yeah," Eren murmured, chewing absently on his bottom lip. "We did absolutely nothing in accounting today because we had some stupid presentation from Trost Industries about an internship and it took up the entire class period, and I got to nap. That's a good day if you ask me."

"Trost Industries?" Armin asked, looking up at Eren with widened eyes. "Why in the world wouldn't you pay attention to that? Eren, Trost is one of the biggest financial firms in the country or even the world. They're a… predatory megacorp."

"So what?" Eren yawned. "And I'm a tired college student who could use the extra sleep."

"I wonder why they're opening up an internship to underprivileged, inner-city kids… it must be a tactic, no doubt," Armin murmured entirely to himself before suddenly, "Eren, did they give you anything? A pamphlet, a flyer?"

"Sure," was Eren's confused answer. "It's in my backpack."

It wasn't that Eren hadn't heard of Trost Industries. Everybody had. Even he knew they had a hand in several different aspects of the economy, including stocks, finance, advising, and assessment; it was more-so that the offer, or what he'd managed to catch of it before passing out, seemed too good to be true. Just like when those old guys in suits came to the class of poor, struggling barely-adults and waved the idea of a $5,000 study abroad trip in front of their faces. There was likely a catch somewhere; a minimum GPA requirement Eren could never meet, or an application fee, or something else out of his reach. And Eren didn't like to get his hopes up only to be cruelly let down. Besides, he didn't even enjoy his business classes; what business did he have interning at one of the most influential companies in the world?

"This is a huge deal," Armin was saying from the kitchen, bursting him out of his thought bubble. "I would kill to have this opportunity, Eren, and _I'm_ against big business; you have to apply!"

"Read the fine print, I'm sure I don't qualify, Armin."

"There is no fine print, Eren," Armin insisted. Suddenly, there was a flyer being waved in Eren's face. "They want kids like you. Struggling, lost with no direction… no offense. This is a publicity stunt, it makes them look charitable and considerate of New York's working-class. They want to sponsor afflicted students like yourself to become one of their 37,000 corporate slaves!"

"Wow, Armin," Eren mused, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You make it sound irresistible."

Armin said nothing. Instead, he picked up his open laptop and thrust it into Eren's arms. "Apply. Even if they're not serious about giving out any jobs, it will look amazing on a resume. And, from the sounds of it, the more unfortunate the applicant is doing, the better their chances."

Eren frowned. "Are you calling me unfortunate?" 

But again, Armin didn't answer. Instead, he left the laptop and flyer with Eren and disappeared into his room, likely to call and report to Mikasa about the whole situation. Eren felt ridiculous as he went to his school portal and clicked on the 'Internship Opportunities' tab. He felt even more like he was going crazy when he actually saw "Trost Ind., business majors only" on his screen, and clicking on the link to the application was like tightening himself into a strait-jacket. Believing that someone like him, instead of someone like Armin, would ever be considered for an internship at Trost was like believing in those porn site ads that promised hot singles in your area. It was just unrealistic. 

Even at his school, there were hundreds of more-deserving students who'd probably jumped at this chance the moment it was first mentioned in class. And Eren hoped they got it, too; because he certainly did not feel like he was worthy of it, and honestly, probably wouldn't even take it seriously.

Breezing through the application, Eren gave the bare minimum of information. When it came time to write about why he wanted to intern at Trost, he was honest and blunt. He wanted a good job that would pay him good money. He didn't want his family (Mikasa and Armin) to worry about him or have to support him. He never accepted charity, and he didn't want to start now. And most of all, he wanted them to finally be impressed with something he'd done. He didn't include that part of the sob-story in the application. 

Closing the laptop, Eren pushed it to the side like it was a heavy brick. Now Armin could stop bothering him and they could all forget about it until he received the inevitable, "We thank you for applying to our program, however..." email that he'd seen a hundred times before, be it for jobs, colleges, or scholarships. Not like Eren cared about the stupid internship, anyway. 

Deciding to make himself useful, Eren began to make dinner. As he was dressing chicken from the fridge, Armin emerged from the bedroom and demanded to know if Eren had finished the application. Eren told him yes, and being satisfied with this answer, Armin took his seat back on the couch and continued studying. By the time Mikasa walked through the door, beads of snow in her dark hair and scarf wrapped tightly around the lower half of her face, Eren had the chicken in the oven and was steaming frozen vegetables. 

"Hello," Mikasa greeted, hanging her keys on the hook by the door. As she took off the mountains of layers she had on, she asked, "Eren, what's this about an internship?"

Eren wanted to stab himself with the chicken knife. 

"It's nothing Mikasa, and I don't want anyone getting their hopes up," he answered firmly, trying to be the domineering man of the house that he never got to be. Mikasa was, inevitably, the boss. Eyebrows furrowed and attention on the stove, he finished, "I applied but I probably won't get it, you know how my grades are. Anyway, new topic: the chicken is almost done."

For once, she didn't press, brown eyes lingering on him only a beat longer before she continued unwrapping her scarf and hanging it up to dry. 

Dinner was ready shortly after, and Eren set the food out on the counter but took his plate to his room. It was like a little safe-haven away from the two of them, though he realized how that sounded as soon as he thought it. It wasn't that he didn't love them both; he did. But sometimes, living with people who are far more successful than you in most aspects of life can be a little exhausting. In his bedroom, he could do what he wanted without feeling like a disappointment. So he toed his socks off of his feet, put on some music, and ate his food on his bed. 

Eren liked art. He wasn't the best at it, since it would be off-brand for him to be naturally gifted at anything, but he'd been working at it since grade school. It was small, stupid stuff, usually something he saw from the day that piqued his interest or a face he found attractive or things around the house. He liked to see how realistic he could make something look, and if he was really stressed, he'd practice the same object over and over until it looked as close to a picture as he could manage. He figured Mikasa and Armin knew about his drawings; he left them haphazardly around his room most of the time and knew that they both came in there every once in a while when he was gone, but they'd never mentioned them. Eren didn't want them to. It was a part of his life that they couldn't comment on. They weren't artists, and if they had to draw something it would probably be a stick figure. So Eren reveled in having one area where he excelled even slightly above them both. 

Art school had, clearly, not been an option. Eren wouldn't be able to stand himself if he became the NYC "struggling artist" trope he saw so often, and he knew it would only be a way to set himself up to have to depend on Mikasa for the rest of his life. Besides, he didn't have the pre-established skills needed to get any sort of scholarship; so as much as art was something he enjoyed, it would have to remain a hobby. 

Laying in bed, fan blowing on his face as he stared at the ceiling, Eren considered what it would be like to actually get selected for the stupid internship after all. He'd vowed to not get his hopes up, but there were so many possibilities; would he get to go to the headquarters, which was located in the same sky-scraping glass building he'd passed in Lower Manhattan so many times before? Would Mikasa finally congratulate him on something and actually mean it, having been accepted to something even Armin couldn't manage to be considered for? An opportunity designed for people like Eren, not people like Armin, for once. If he got the spot, could he really pass that up?

But it also felt too much like pity work. Eren would likely be slaving over the bottom-barrel workers of the company, grabbing coffee orders and ironing suit jackets, never coming into contact with any of the higher-level corporate bosses. It was a charity, and Eren never wanted to be a charity case. Being poor and underprivileged didn't mean he was willing to shine some old, rich man's shoes just for a resume booster. 

The thought alone put a sour taste in Eren's mouth.

He was overthinking this. Realistically, he knew good and well he wouldn't get the internship. _Well, who cares_ ; he didn't want to be a… what had Armin called it again?... corporate slave anyway. 

The next morning, Eren woke up around noon. Sleeping in on a Saturday was actually the best feeling he'd ever experienced, exceeding sex by far. Only, he much preferred when it was the sunlight reflecting off of snow-covered rooftops that woke him up over the sound of Mikasa banging on his door like the damn apartment was up in flames. 

"Jesus-- What! Mikasa, what the hell?" He groaned as he quickly gained consciousness, his dream world and reality blurring with the transition. 

"It's about time you got up," Mikasa called through the wooden door. At least the insufferable pounding had finally halted. "Armin and I are going to the store. I want you to write down what you want to be bought, I've been waiting around all day for you to get up."

Mikasa typically woke up around 6 AM. 

Eren dragged himself out of his bed and, subsequently, out of his room, hair and teeth unbrushed and wearing nothing but his boxers and a robe. Impatiently, Mikasa stood by the door, arms crossed over her chest and discernable look on her face. Still foggy from sleep, Eren added a few key items to their shopping list. Finishing just as Armin emerged from his room wearing his tan peacoat, Eren shoved it into his hand. 

Glancing it over, Armin remarked, " _Grapes, the green ones, flaming-hot-Funyans, and Rice-A-Roni microwave cups_?"

Eren shrugged. 

Mikasa was already at her limit for the morning, it seemed, as she sighed in exasperation before opening the door and disappearing into the stairwell. 

Armin was out the door to follow her in a blink, leaving Eren alone in the apartment with his thoughts and the TV. Laying flat on his stomach across the couch, he found himself without the energy to go to the bathroom and get ready for the day. Instead, he flipped on the TV, which had been left on CNN by Armin from the night before. Instantly uninterested, he moved to change the channel, until a familiar building caught his eye on the screen. 

"Trost Industries has seen a market cap increase unlike any other within the past decade. The corporation can thank CEOs Erwin Smith and Levi Ackerman for this advancement, the two having inherited the economical empire after the death of Smith's father, founder and former director Harold Smith..." 

So those were the two no-doubt millionaires that headed the company. It seemed Eren had missed the photo shown of them, but he could picture the two men in his head already; aging, bald or white-haired men with wrinkling skin and thousand dollar-suits. They just sounded like tycoons with names like Victorian barons. Sucking on his teeth, Eren finally switched the TV to something more entertaining-- Bob Ross.

Before he even made it through a single episode, Eren had passed out on the couch, one hand slung over the edge and the other casually resting in his boxers. His phone was beneath his face, pressed right into his cheek, a reality he became all the more aware of as soon as an email notification came in and the device reacted by buzzing violently. Jolting awake for the second time that day, Eren let out a whine, snatching the phone from underneath his head and looking at it in utter offense. 

_From the Communications Sector of Trost Industries:_

_We have received your application for the internship program being offered here at Trost Industries. We are currently reviewing applications on a rolling admission basis, and you should expect to receive a decision within the next 24 hours. Please contact our senior intern with further questions._

Eyes glued to the screen, Eren blanked. 24 hours? Damn, they were quick. Curiosity bubbled in his gut; how many students had applied? Was he one of the first, and how many would be accepted? How many _could_ be accepted? Would Mikasa and Armin be home when he got his answer? 

The only kid in his accounting class he even spoke to was a really annoying know-it-all named Jean Kirstein. He figured Jean had definitely applied since he was a kiss ass and overly confident. If Jean got a spot and Eren didn't, Eren would definitely have to play like he wasn't ever even interested at all; if not, he'd hear about it until the end of the semester. 

Mikasa and Armin returned from the store, bags in hand. Tossing the XL sized bag of flaming-hot-Funyans his way, she remarked, "Have you even showered yet?" to which Eren promptly turned and exited the room in response. 

Post-shower and post-teeth-brushing, Eren found himself staring at his Gmail app which he had refreshed only 25 times in the last two minutes. He was oddly on edge, which was very unlike him, seeing as he typically got anxious over exactly nothing, ever. It felt like a pivotal moment, another example for his self-worth to be decided through the form of an email or webpage, much like the ACT and the CommonApp. Only, Eren secretly wished for dramatically better results this time. _So much for not getting your hopes up, huh?_

He wasn't entirely sure why he cared so much in the first place. He hadn't really until he got the email saying that he'd get his results within the next 24 hours. For whatever reason, that put his imagination into high-gear, and all he could picture was Mikasa's eyes wide with shock when he told her he'd been accepted. As he toweled off his hair, he grimaced. That had sounded entirely too much like he was starting to expect to be accepted. 

Mikasa made dinner that night. Eren, beforehand, wrote a little bit of a paper for his English class before deciding that was enough homework completed for the weekend. While he was building his taco at the kitchen counter, Mikasa and Armin sat on the couch in front of the TV, the room silent besides the sounds of the crunch of their taco shells and the buzz of the overhead kitchen lighting, TV on mute like Armina and Mikasa (weirdly) preferred. 

"When will you hear back?" Mikasa suddenly asked aloud, using a paper towel as a napkin. She didn't have to look Eren's way for him to know she was addressing him. 

Pushing lettuce into his taco shell, Eren replied, "Sometime tonight or tomorrow."

"So soon?" remarked Armin, mostly to himself. "Well, the applicant pool couldn't have been very competitive, so I guess that explains it..."

Eren paused his movements, looking directly at Armin. 

As Mikasa seemed to freeze as well, both realization and embarrassment appeared to flood him. His cheeks turned a dark hue of red as he quickly added on, "Ah, I didn't mean it like that, Eren. I just meant--" 

"I think I know what you meant," Eren finished plainly. 

He ate in his bedroom again. He hated feeling like a child again, having to hide away from parents who didn't understand him like some prepubescent drama queen. But they were both so full of themselves, never once considering how the shit they said impacted him or his feelings. He was 19 for Christ's sake. It was like they both thought he was some basket-case, never going to amount to shit and already deeming him a failure before he could even hit 20. They just talked down on him whenever they got the chance and nothing he did ever met their impossible standards.

He didn't feel like eating anymore. 

Well, he wasn't going to sit around and mope. Phone in hand, he stared at a contact he only ever texted for homework info and class cancelings. But he also knew said number wouldn't turn down his offer to go and get wasted, so he texted anyway. 

_Eren, 9:30 PM: Hey, you down to find some moves tonight?_

_Jean, 9:34 PM: Oh shit I am sooooo down. Its time to celebrate bro_

_Eren, 9:36 PM: Celebrate??_

_Jean, 9:37 PM: Hell ya man I got an email saying I got in for that internship like an hour ago_

Eren set the phone on his bed, face-down. The universe was dead-set on fucking him tonight. 


	2. Curiosity killed the cat, you know.

_Just because Jean got his email already doesn't mean you won't. They still haven't rejected you,_ Eren tried to reason with himself. _And regardless, you wouldn't want to be stuck here in this apartment when you find out you didn't get in._

He texted Jean back, breathing his frustration out in one big breath through his nose. 

_Eren, 9:45 PM: Sweet. What's happening tonight?_

_Jean, 9:47 PM: Me and a couple of my bros are gonna pregame and then hit Uptown. Sending a google maps address nowwwwww…._

It almost sounded like Jean had been pregaming already. Still, as much as Eren was on the fence about whether this was a good idea or not, he went into autopilot, throwing on his standard going-out clothes; white tee, his black and grey plaid pants, and skillfully-worn-in white Air Force Ones. It was an art, you know. Throw on a jean jacket and he had an outfit. He certainly didn't have upper-class style, but to be fair, Uptown was far from an upper-class club. 

Eren left his bedroom within fifteen minutes flat, holding nothing but his phone, wallet, and house key. As he approached the front door, he pointedly said nothing to Mikasa, who was washing dishes in the sink. Armin was MIA, likely in his room doing whatever work he found to be so important and revolutionary. Hand on the doorknob, Eren almost thought he'd be able to escape without a question asked, until--

"Where are you going?"

He huffed, turning only slightly over his shoulder as he replied curtly, "Out. As one does."

"Where exactly is 'out'? You could at least announce you're leaving," Mikasa countered. He was still facing the door but could tell out of her tone alone that she had her arms crossed and was glaring holes into his back. "Why do we always have to have this convers--"

"I'm 18. I didn't realize I had to ask permission to leave."

"I didn't say you had to ask permission, I said we would just appreciate if--"

"Well," Eren cut her off again, voice an octave louder than before. He hadn't meant for it to come out so harsh, but his knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the door handle and there was no toning it down now. His temperament was like that. Once it flared, it stayed hot for hours. "I would appreciate if I wasn't talked to like a child. Or, better yet, a failure; but we can't all have what we want, can we?"

Silence followed, but Eren could hear his heartbeat in his ears as adrenaline pumped through his body. Well, if the atmosphere hadn't been tense before, it was now. Mikasa said nothing and Eren didn't want to see the disappointed expression she likely held, so with that, he pulled open the door and left. 

Yes, he was being more than a little childish. After his tantrums, the reality of his shameful behavior always came crashing down on him. But if they wanted to treat him like a child, he would act like one. Still, he was painfully self-aware of his anger and how easily it could be ignited, like a tiny little match setting off a firework finale. If he had stuck around any longer, things would have only escalated, and therefore it was probably in everyone's best interest that he'd just left. 

Part of his reactionary comment about not having what he wanted certainly didn't only pertain to how he was spoken to by Mikasa and Armin; and even he had to come to terms with that fact as he walked toward the street station, hands in his pockets and head down to avoid catching snowflakes in his face. He still held a twinge of resentment that Jean had received a spot in the internship, although it wasn't a shock. The kid was a kiss-ass, probably had gotten a direct recommendation from the prof for answering every single in-class review question since day 1. Eren knew he shouldn't resent Jean for being a good student, but he couldn't help the headache it gave him just thinking about Jean's hand shooting up in class every day like clockwork. 

It took 20 minutes to get to the address Jean sent, and when Eren knocked on the apartment door, it opened within seconds. Jean, with pink cheeks and a half-buttoned floral-print dress shirt haphazardly slung around his torso, threw open the door and presented Eren with a toothy grin. Eren hadn't preliminary pictured what Jean would wear on a night out, but if he had to imagine an outfit that fit the man's in-your-face personality, this would be it. "Jaeger! I didn't know if your tired ass would make it!"

Eren, unsure how to respond, blew air into his cheeks and then deflated them slowly. "Well, here I am."

He was pulled abruptly into the apartment, which was lit only by LED strip lights stuck to the ceiling, alternating colors like some tacky Christmas decorations. Two other guys and two girls he'd never met were in the living room, which was decorated exactly how you'd expect a college guy to decorate an apartment he lived in alone; with basically nothing except a Budweiser poster on the wall and minimum furniture, including the signature black futon. 

"Guys, this is Eren, he's the touchy dude I sit next to in accounting," Jean announced over the music blaring through the surround-sound Bluetooth. Eren quickly remembered Jean mentioning that his parents had money. "Eren, this is Marco and Connie, and Christa and Sasha. Mingle, exchange Snapchats-- I have to piss."

And just like that, Jean disappeared down a small hallway, leaving Eren alone in the center of a room with four people he didn't know. Eren wasn't a shy person by any means, but even he felt unsettled by the awkward silence that followed Jean's departure. A loud personality like his could do that to a room. 

After a moment, the boy with the buzzed hair stepped forward, confidently offering his hand. "Connie Springer. I dropped out of college. Nice to meet ya."

Eren accepted the outstretched hand, answering, "I can't blame you, man."

With that, Eren made some new acquaintances. The quieter guy with the freckles was Marco, the girl with a somehow striking resemblance to Armin was Christa, the spunky brunette with a ponytail was Sasha, and of course, Connie had made himself known. After Jean returned and they each took turns taking shots or drinking beer straight from the case, he deemed them all acceptably drunk and decreed it time to make their way to Uptown. 

It was, to Eren's genuine surprise, a busy night for the bar. He and Jean and all of Jean's friends now stood in a huddled group at the end of the line to get inside, fake IDs in hand. Eren passed for 21 easily, his height being a particular help as he stood a little over 6ft tall-- although, Jean was slightly taller than him, something he noticed for the first time (begrudgingly). By the time they managed their ways inside, Sasha having had to argue a little feverishly that she was, indeed, 21 and her ID was _not_ a fake, the tips of Eren's ears were numb and his fingers were red from the wind. 

Inside, a crowd of bodies managed to take up the entire dance floor, while stragglers and conversationalists hung out near the bar or in the casino area of the club. Jean was on it, wasting zero time as he headed directly to the bar, throwing something his friends' way about needing to keep up his buzz. Eren followed him absently, not minding the idea of a few more drinks; he wasn't at all feeling drunk and he was going to need to if he was going to survive the night. 

Between the music that was loud enough to drown out your thoughts, the dark lights that made it hard to discern much beyond the general shapes of the people directly next to you, and the rounds of shots that Connie and Sasha took turns ordering, Eren actually started to believe that he wouldn't care what his email would say after all. Although, the question now became whether or not he'd even be able to read it when it arrived.

"He's definitely feeling something now," Jean remarked after Eren slammed down his fifth shot of Fireball, hissing as the cinnamon sting slid down his throat. Clapping him on the back, Jean snorted, "No way someone can take _that_ many shots and have two vodka crans without getting dizzy. If it hasn't hit you yet, it's about to. All at once. Rough night, huh?"

Feeling looser, Eren let out a bubbling chuckle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Christa sat next to him in a bar stool, margarita in her hand, and had been nursing that same one since they arrived. Really, Eren _should've_ thought she was pretty cute, wearing a tightly-fitted blue satin dress and chunky black heels, but the thought had yet to reach his mind. He realized that he _hadn't_ noticed her appearance before he actually did realize her appearance, and he supposed that said enough. Much to his own surprise, it wasn't Christa's tan legs or nice figure or that was catching his eye; it was a man sitting at the very edge of the bar, about ten seats away from their group, who was talking intensely with an employee and wearing a tailored suit and stern expression. It was in his direction that Eren found himself pulled, and on his fifth glance over there, Eren decided he was drunk enough to act. 

Captivated by the man Eren watched with eager eyes. The man looked both important and incredibly wealthy, entirely opposite the overall population of the club. All Eren could see of him was his clothing and jewelry, but that was more than enough. Surely that was a Rolex, and was that suit Burberry? Eren couldn't take his gaze off of the situation. The employee, a girl wearing a low-cut top and an apron, looked sheepish and somber as she was talked _to_ , not with; was this guy reprimanding her for something? 

"What are you gawking at, Jaeger? Oh, is it that banging bartender? Fuck, I was looking at her too; I totally call dibs. Her tits are like two juicy watermelons," Jean was saying in his ear, taking ahold of Eren's shoulders as he attempted to be sneaky about his comments. Only, he still managed to talk incredibly loudly, and Christa gave a horrified gasp as she smacked him on the arm. 

But no, it wasn't the girl (who had quickly gone back to doing her job, this time with more speed and urgency), it was _him_. This mystery man with the newest iPhone pressed to his ear, casually swirling his drink. His dark hair was slicked back neatly, a few strands falling rebelliously to the side of his eyes, and Eren drunkenly wondered what color they were. 

This wasn't unusual, Eren saw attractive people in public all the time. But what _was_ strange was that this man was entirely unapproachable, and looked even like he might spit at your feet if you bothered him at all. He looked entirely out of place. Eren, a person who _thrived_ off of other people's praise and acceptance, usually did not have any interest in a person like that. Someone who was so obviously above those around him, sitting alone in a crowded bar, looking disgusted at his very surroundings; those people were the type that Eren avoided. The kind that would never be impressed with Eren or anything he did.

And still, Eren felt pulled. He blamed it on the alcohol, but he desperately wanted to know who this man was. 

Before he could second guess his liquor-induced courage, Eren told his friends he was going to the bathroom before he slipped away from them, weaving in and out of individuals and groups that stood around the perimeter of the room. He had no plan, and certainly no experience with this sort of thing, but he was acting on whatever popped into his head first. And that was, incidentally, to sit directly next to the man and order another drink. 

Just sliding onto the barstool beside him felt like a great imposition on the man's space, and already Eren could feel two eyes burning into the side of his face as he spoke confidently to the bartender. Even she, the same girl from before, looking warily between the two of them before disappearing. Eren, suddenly out of ideas and left to fend for himself, became immediately aware of the smell of cologne radiating from the person beside him. _He's filthy fucking rich._

The man hadn't said anything, one hand wrapped around the glass that sat before him, and Eren couldn't stand the awkward silence any longer. So, he opened his mouth to finally speak, turning his gaze to meet the man's eyes-- 

"Who the fuck are you?"

Eren blinked, admittedly stunned. Did he just hear that correctly? 

The man had piercing, slate-colored eyes, narrowed into slits and directly pointed at Eren. His mouth was downturned into a scowl, and despite there being a ban on smoking within the club, held a lit cigarette between two of his fingers. Eren, unable to comprehend what had just occurred, said absolutely nothing, lips parted in shock. The man, having realized Eren wasn't going to reply, let out a frustrated breath through his nose and brought the cigarette to his own lips, eyes locked with Eren’s all the while.

His lips, Eren noted, were pink and soft-looking, contrasting with the paleness of the man's perfect skin. He was freshly shaven, not a glimmer of sweat on his skin, as though he had just walked out of the shower instead of into a humid club; and the way his lips wrapped around the cigarette was enough to make Eren's pupils widen slightly. He hadn't even managed out a word, but it was almost as though the man no longer expected an answer; instead, he kept the unwavering eye contact with Eren as he breathed out a puff of smoke to the direction of the bar. 

Eren's drink was sat down in front of him, and Eren broke the staring contest with the man to look down at it, suddenly uninterested. However, he figured it would help him in the long run, what with how this conversation was going, so he picked it up and downed a good portion of it. Levi continued watching him, now with one elbow on the table and his chin resting in his hand. His intimidating demeanor did not ease, however, and Eren found himself squirming under the man's gaze. Who the hell was this guy? And why did Eren feel like his tongue was twisted all of a sudden? 

Clearing his throat, he settled his eye's on the man's drink, which looked like he hadn't taken a single drink from. "Eren," he said. When the man only quirked an eyebrow in response, which Eren picked up in his peripheral, he continued. "My name. You asked."

"Not exactly," drawled the man, annoyance in his tone as obvious as the uncertainty in Eren's. After a beat of silence, he caved, replying, "Levi. What are you doing here, _Eren_?"

At this, Eren's eyes flickered to meet his again. _Levi. Haven’t I heard that somewhere?_ But before he could ponder it, he was distracted by the question. He quickly considered how he could respond and decided to go with the truth. "Waiting for an email. What about you?"

"Currently," Levi began, taking a pause to breathe in another long drag of his cigarette. He shifted in his seat, leaning more against the bar top. "Having my personal space invaded by a shitty kid, who is definitely not old enough to be in this bar."

Eren, again, was silent. It seemed like this man-- Levi-- was accustomed to throwing out jabs, but unless Eren was just too drunk to pick up on it, Levi didn't seem to hold any actual venom in his tone. The cutting words were said as casually as normal conversation, and so while Eren felt like he should be growing offended at them, he couldn't bring himself to. 

Eren only finished off his drink in response. 

The music in the club switched to an EDM-style song, and Levi moved to glance around him, somehow managing to look bored with every action he took. "You came here with your friends," he was saying now, his voice a little lower than it had been before. Eren felt something churn in his gut, making him shudder. "What made you decide to come over here and bother me?"

His tone had almost been insinuatory. Or, maybe Eren was imagining things, but he didn't think so. _Because_ _you look fucking godly and I couldn't help myself._

"I was curious," Eren answered.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know."

Eren's eyes trailed down Levi's upper-body before he could stop them, settling for a brief moment on the semi-exposed silver belt-buckle before he blinked. _I must look ridiculous to him right now, wearing dirty fucking Nikes while he's dressed completely in designer._ But Levi's dark, cool eyes weren't on his clothes, they were looking at Eren's lips, which he had been worrying between his teeth habitually as he assessed Levi's form. If Eren's stomach was churning before, it was doing backflips now, chest tightening as those grey eyes flickered back to meet his. The lights turned blue, and now, a dream-like cast fell over Levi's features, casting shadows and highlighting his jet-black hair. 

Eren, once again, went to say something in return, desperately wanting to keep the conversation alive, but he was cut off by someone else this time. Jean, having spotted him from the dance floor, shouted his name from where he was standing, calling him to come join them. 

Levi, having glanced in the direction of Jean as well, did not seem to pick up on Eren's defeated expression. Or, rather, he did and just ignored it. Standing-- he was shorter than Eren would have anticipated, but with Eren still sitting, they were about at eye-level-- and taking out his wallet, Levi put down a twenty-dollar bill, more than enough to cover his single gin-and-tonic that he hadn't touched. Eren, lost and scrambling for a new topic of conversation, blanked and found himself, once again, pathetically unable to articulate his thoughts. He just didn't want the man to leave so soon. Embarrassingly, he managed only to blurt out, "Stay?"

Levi moved a strand of black hair out of his eye. Expression purely curious now, a fair pace away from the previously annoyed frown, he brandished a slight smirk. "Now that's cute."

Pride undoubtedly a little wounded, Eren motioned to the phone on the bar top. "Let me have your number then."

Levi straightened out his suit jacket. "It's a business number."

Ignoring the hitching of his own breath, Eren tried, "Your personal number, then."

"That, _gorgeous_ ," Levi said, voice coy as he stepped closer to Eren, close enough that Eren could feel the heat of his body and smell the mint on his breath. Using one finger on his chin, Levi tilted Eren's chin up. “Would be too easy."

And with that, Levi was gone, vanishing into the crowd of people but heading right for the entrance. He had been so close, lips inches from Eren's own, and the feeling of electricity that had jolted through his body at the mere touch of Levi's finger on his skin had yet to fade.

 _And you couldn't even get his number._

Eren found himself painfully unable to shake the feeling of rejection as the night went on. Even when he managed to pull himself from his seat, run a hand anxiously through his hair, and join his new friends, he couldn't help but feel the slightest twinge of humiliation when replaying the scene over in his head. Levi had blown off his requests like he was entirely uninterested in Eren, and yet, his body language and even his _words_ implied otherwise. How does a barely-five-minute long conversation begin with 'who the fuck are you?' and end with Eren being called 'gorgeous'? 

Eren figured that was just Levi's personality.

To try to forget the awkward twisting in his gut, Eren danced with Christa, the two of them sandwiched between the rest of the group in the middle of the dancefloor, where there was no such thing as personal space. All of them were plenty drunk, Eren included, and it was easy to drown his thoughts in the music and the flashing rainbow of lights. In fact, it worked so well that he almost forgot why he had gone out in the first place; that was until he felt his phone buzz in his back pocket and pulled it out for a quick notification check. Seeing it was an email, he froze, the only person standing still in a sea of dancing bodies. His breath caught just seeing the name "Trost Industries" on his phone, and with a deep breath, he opened the notification. It was a little late for a business email, but Eren figured a company like Trost had people working for them in all time-zones.

_From the Communications Sector of Trost Industries:_

_We have reviewed your application for the internship program being offered here at Trost Industries. We are currently accepting applications on a rolling admission basis, and are pleased to offer you a spot as part of the 2020 college internship team. Please respond to this email within 48 hours accepting or declining this offer. For questions, contact our senior intern._

Well, _that_ boosted his mood.

"Jean, Jean, look dude! Look, isn't this fucking insane?" he heard himself say, phone clutched tightly in his hand as he practically pounced on Jean's back. The blonde stumbled backward and cursed, taking the phone out of Eren's hand and squinting at it inquisitively. Eren, for one, was over the moon, wide grin having taken over his face and hands fisted in anticipation. 

Finally, Jean let out a long whistle. "Well, would you look at us? The two newest unpaid employees of Trost Industries. I think this calls for more shots!"

When Eren got back to his apartment, it was 2 AM. Mikasa and Armin were asleep, so when he entered, he shut the door quietly behind him before flicking on the family room light. 

He had half a mind to wake them both up out of their sleep and announce his success, wanting to see the looks of shock on their faces. And, having forgotten Armin's little comment while out, he suddenly had a mental playback of the events that unfolded earlier that night. _This will knock them both off their stupid high horses._

But he didn't wake them up. He decided to go into his room, peel his sweaty clothes off his body, and allow himself this moment to feel jittery about his accomplishment. To him, it was an accomplishment; regardless of what demographic they had targeted or what they had chosen their interns off of. It would probably be six months of taking coffee orders and errands lists, and he would probably have a difficult time being looked down upon by the actual employees there, but it didn't matter. Eren had done something that neither Mikasa nor Armin had managed to do, and all he wanted was to hear 'good job, Eren'. 

Glancing at the clock, he grimaced. It would have to wait for breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> confession: i love writing scenes where eren and levi meet for the first time. i love it even more when eren falls clumsily in love at first sight. levi, on the other hand...
> 
> anyway, thanks for reading! in regards to A Time or Two and The Red Light District, my other on-going stories, i plan on putting new chapters up for them soon as well. A Time or Two takes more time for me to write because i have pages and pages in a notebook filled with plotlines, complex background stories, and other shit that i have to remember to explain and include. it's much less light-hearted than my other two stories, if you could call them that. 
> 
> see you next time!


	3. Untouchable, Polished, and yet Completely Unimpressed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good news, bad news.

Sunday morning, Eren hopped out of bed. He was pretty sure he hadn't felt this excited to see the sunrise since Christmas as a kid. He threw on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before, as casually as possible, leaving his room and taking a seat at the small table they had in the kitchen. He had to refrain from shouting out his news to the room as soon as he entered, instead choosing to scroll through Instagram on his phone as nonchalantly as he could while Mikasa cooked breakfast and Armin brought in the mail. It took all of the self-discipline Eren never had to keep himself from bursting right out of his chair. 

Sitting down beside Eren, Armin sorted out the mail into their three respective piles. Eren bounced his leg nervously, subconsciously chewing on his nails. Mikasa brought over three plates containing bacon, eggs, and toast, and set them down on the table in front of each of their seats. 

"How was your night, Eren?" she asked, voice strained and formal, as though having a conversation she had tried to avoid. 

_ Oh, right. You and her got into it last night, too. _ But all of that seemed so irrelevant now, what with the news he had to share burning on the tip of his tongue. "Eh, fine. Pretty uneventful really," he answered with a shrug. 

Mikasa hummed, Armin said nothing, and the three of them began to eat. 

Eren took a bite of his bacon, chewing for a moment before remarking, "Oh, right. I forgot to mention; I got an email while I was out," then, a pause, taking a sip of his orange juice. Mikasa's eyes fell on him that instant and even Armin paused the movement of his fork. "I _was_ accepted for the internship after all. Weird, right?"

Mikasa's fork was set down on her plate with a clatter. "Eren, are you serious? You're not joking, are you?"

"No, I'm not joking," Eren answered. He couldn't help the smile that slipped onto his face. "I have the email to prove it."

Armin's eyes softened, and then averted lowly. "Eren, that's great... and I'm really sorry for what I said last night. I didn't mean to insult you."

"I know you didn't," Eren said, not quite ready to address whether or not he'd forgiven the comment. "Believe me, I really didn't think I was going to get accepted either."

"What happens now? When do you start? Don't you need new clothes; I mean, you can't wear jeans, Eren. We'll have to go shopping. I know they don't pay you, but we still want to impress," Mikasa said all at once, conversing entirely with herself. Pressing a finger to her chin, she frowned, "They better not walk all over you like some sort of servant."

"They aren't going to," Eren answered, although completely and entirely unsure himself. "I can wear the suit I have from prom last year. Maybe I'll pick up some slacks at the mall. And from what the email said, I have to attend an orientation seminar next week; I guess the internship starts after that."

Their meal came and went, but not without more drilling questions from both Mikasa and Armin; most of which Eren did not have the answers to. That night, Eren laid in bed staring at the popcorn ceiling unable to sleep. He was minutely jittery, wide-awake and on edge. Maybe he did need new clothes. Maybe they _would_ treat him like shit. Maybe he'd meet some insanely rich business gurus and make connections. Maybe he would have to see Jean every single day and end up with an aggravated assault charge. Who could know? 

Eren had never been to an orientation for, well, anything. Even his job at the pizza place he worked at had just started him on the floor on the first day. How was he supposed to dress? How long would it last? Really, he figured, if he was going to stay up all night and waste perfectly good sleeping time, he could be working on his English paper. But this matter just seemed more pressing. English could wait. 

The next days passed quickly. He went to class, ate his meals, and went to the mall with Mikasa to buy a couple of pairs of cheap H&M dress pants. She insisted he needed a haircut, but that would be against his brand, so he refused. Now, sitting in his philosophy lecture hall (which, coincidentally, Jean was in) and half-assedly taking notes, Eren was being subjected to mindless chatter. He'd survived this long without knowing, or at least without getting spotted; but once Jean had noticed Eren sitting near the back, having come in late for the first time all semester and thus arriving after Eren did for once, it was all over. Currently, Jean was yapping his ear off about  _ why _ he'd been late-- he was, of course, getting a fresh haircut for the orientation later that week. 

"--and I don't want to look like a slob. I want a  _ job _ , obviously. The execs probably have little on-call servant barbers that run in and give a quick trim at any moment's notice."

Eren raised one eyebrow in mocked amusement. That was the best he could offer. 

He was slouching against the armrest, head in his palm, trying very hard to keep his eyes open at all. Their professor seemed to just drone on; and really, Eren only came to lecture for the attendance points. Everything they were tested over was either common sense or in the online textbook. Jean, beside him, continued to ramble on in a hushed tone, apparently believing that Eren cared enough to listen. Astounding. 

"I'm not even nervous," Jean said firmly. He shifted some of his books around. "I bet there will be hundreds of interns and I doubt we'll even see any of the important higher-ups."

“You’re probably right,” Eren mindlessly replied, stifling another yawn. 

Orientation was coming up, per another email they’d received from Trost Industries. Eren’s nerves were more shot than he’d ever let Jean or Mikasa or Armin know; they probably already doubted his ability to survive the orientation day, Eren wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of knowing that he was even chewing his fingernails over it. 

In truth, all Eren ever really wanted was to make the people he cared about proud. He wanted a pat on the back, wanted to recognized for something outstanding like Armin was on the daily. Wanted to be the person that was bragged on for once. He could give two shits about a time-consuming internship slaving around for two filthy-rich CEOs. Still, this felt like an opportunity meant for  _ him _ . He was doing something that even Armin couldn’t manage to accomplish. So while Eren was suffering at Trost, he was going to make the most of it; hopefully, he’d make some connections and open doors for himself, though he wasn’t entirely sure how to do either of those things. 

Orientation was on Wednesday. Tuesday night, Eren sat at the kitchen table finishing up an English report that was due that night. Mikasa set a plate down in front of him, and Eren could smell it before he saw it. Pausing his typing fingers, he asked, “Spaghetti?”

“Mhm,” Mikasa answered, wiping her hands on her apron. “Eat up. Big day tomorrow.”

She also washed and ironed Eren’s new dress pants, having laid them out on his bed neatly. He didn’t give her enough credit. Eren was a grown man, perfectly capable of doing things on his own, and she still looked after him in this way. Although it sometimes smothered him, she deserved a “thank you” every once in a while, and as he got into bed that night he reminded himself to tell her just that in the morning. 

When his alarm went off at 7:30 AM, Eren thought it must’ve been a joke. He felt like he hadn’t slept more than five minutes max, and yet he knew that if he didn’t get out of bed right then, he’d be late. He would be damned if he was late on the first day to this damn internship, especially when Jean would surely remind him about it for the rest of his life. He ate some cereal, brushed his teeth, even hosed himself off in the shower for a short ten minutes— Eren Jaeger taking a morning shower? Now that was a rare feat. And when he finished tucking his white dress-shirt into his tan slacks, he looked at himself in the mirror and figured it would have to do. 

Backpack slung over his shoulder and dress-shoes on his feet, Eren stood in the doorway of the apartment, Mikasa fussing over the length of his tie. He stared down at her as she muttered to herself, something about having should of pressed Eren’s shirt too, when Eren took hold of one of her wrists. She paused, looking up at him in confusion. Eren cleared his throat a little awkwardly before proceeding with, “Thanks, Mikasa. Not just for this, but you know… everything.”

A small smile pulled on his sister’s lips as she directed her focus back to his tie. “Of course, Eren.”

And then he was off, into the cold, black coat zipped up to his nose and both of his gloved hands finding refuge in his pockets. Every year it seemed like the New York winter got worse, only to be shown up by the year later. Dipping down below the pavement as he trotted down the subway station stairs, Eren blessed the fact that the biting snow couldn’t reach him here. Then, he stood and waited for the next train to lower Manhattan, and considered that he would be making this trip multiple times a week for at least a couple of months. Thirty-or-so minutes there and back wasn’t even that bad; it was the tourist crowds that would make it hell. After all, Trost Ind. had its headquarters situated a mere 5-minute walk from the World Trade Center. In Harlem, the tourism was kept to a general minimum, but Manhattan was a hellish hub. 

Eren rested his head against the cold windowpane, listening to the music playing from his headphones for the entire duration of the ride to Fulton St. He wondered if Jean was already there, trying to impress by arriving well before the 9 AM time call. Meanwhile, Eren would probably make it in the building by 8:45 if he was lucky. He noticed his bouncing leg well after it had begun its nervous tick, and fought to still it as the train blew down the subway tunnel. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. If he had to guess, all the poor college students would pour into the building and be tasked with mundane paperwork, filing, or errand running. The highest level of business associate they would likely come in contact with was probably a secretary, and Eren would be fine if it stayed that way. Sure, he wanted some opportunity to rise above his community-college degree program and subsequent community-college level job offers, but maybe just putting this internship on his resume would give him that. Maybe. 

It wasn’t that he went to a  _ bad _ school. Harlem Central Community College was as good a community college as any, but it was just that. When you left HCCC, you left with some money in your pocket, a small number of loans in your name, but a degree that impressed nobody. Eren personally did not care where his degree came from; after all, he was only getting on to please Mikasa in the first place. Eren did not want any kind of mundane, 9-5 office job like the ones the people at Trost Industries held. However, he figured it would be nice to prove to everyone around him that he was capable of more than just gliding by on the bare minimum.  _ That _ had never been Eren’s prerogative; at least, not in the areas that he felt passionate about. 

Eren was on the street again, dodging people and cars and gusts of wind with only fifteen minutes to spare. He figured he could make the six-minute walk from the station to the HQ in three if he ran, so he did, weaving in and out of crowds and people and jogging briskly across the street when the coast was clear. Car horns honked, people hollered to one another, and subway rumbled beneath his feet. All of this created one giant whirlwind of overstimulation, and that was the beauty of New York. It also set up a starkly comparable contrast for when Eren stumbled breathlessly through the all-glass doors of Trost Industries and was met with almost complete silence, a spotless interior, and nobody to be seen at all.

Well, Eren corrected himself. There was one girl, petite with short, dark hair, sitting behind the receptionist's desk. The entire room had what appeared to be marble tile flooring, cream-colored walls, and decor with accents of gold. The ceilings were incredibly tall, not a speck of dust to be seen on the giant crystal chandelier that hung above Eren’s head. Gentle lobby music flowed from hidden speakers, and Eren felt like he had entered another dimension. The receptionist typed away, unbothered by Eren’s presence, and then Eren noticed the sign pointing to the set of elevators on the right. It read, “INTERN ORIENTATION: FLOOR 5”

So, on nervous legs that resembled those of a baby deer learning to walk, Eren made his way to the elevators and pressed the button before standing back and waiting patiently. He tried to seem as confident in himself as possible, like he’d been here and done this a million times over, but he suspected that his robotic movements only made him look strange. He shook out his arms slightly, clearing his throat and adjusting his tie as the elevator sounded and the doors opened before him. 

A few people dress in very professional suits stepped off of the elevator, chatting with one another, and Eren’s eyes followed them curiously out the door. He caught the elevator just as it was closing, stepping inside and pressing the fifth-floor-button before regarding the level of decorum that even the elevator held. Its floors matched those of the lobby, and the walls were encased in mirrored glass, giving Eren a direct view of himself so that he could, of course, curse himself for not having ironed his shirt the night before. 

Eren wasn’t the last of the interns to arrive but he definitely had not been the first. The fifth floor was a giant reception-style room with carpeted floors, thick velvet drapes, and long tables holding refreshments. There were at least a hundred other college-age students in the room when Eren stepped off the elevator, some, in Eren’s opinion, entirely overdressed for an internship. Then again, what did he know? He glanced around for a familiar face and saw Jean standing by one of the pearl-colored walls, talking to a girl with a blunt, bob haircut and shiny black stilettos. Eren approached, feeling otherwise foreign in the room, and caught Jean mid-sentence as he joined them. 

“And it's insane, really, the amount of stock they hold over— Oh, Eren! Louise, this is Eren. He’s the one that’s in my accounting class!”

Eren awkwardly shook her hand, and she gave a polite smile. “Nice to meet you Eren. I’m Louise, I just met Jean a couple of minutes ago.”

“So sorry about that,” Eren offered, unable to resist, and Jean began to bicker at him as Louise gave a small laugh. 

There were far too many people in the room for Eren to feel comfortable. Surely even Trost Industries did not need over a hundred interns every semester, right? It was beginning to feel like Eren had been right in his prediction that this was just going to be months worth of annoying assistant work. How was somebody supposed to stand out in a crowd of a hundred people just like them? 

Just as Jean delved into another fun-fact about Trost that he had likely only Googled on his way here, a woman with a microphone entered the room and asked everyone to take a seat. “We’ll be starting shortly. Please, grab a refreshment if you haven’t, we have a few points to cover before you all disperse into your groups.”

She had brown hair pulled back into a slick ponytail, and she talked with an eloquent voice that suggested that she had done this many times before. Eren, Jean, and his new friend Louise sat down in one of the rows further to the back, because Jean was adamant that sitting in the last row would look disrespectful.  _ Groups _ , she had said, making Eren wonder exactly how they would be separated. Did they have different jobs for each group to cover? Different criteria for the level of work they would be doing? Eren shifted in his seat, watching as a screen was rolled out from behind a set of curtains that seemingly lead to a hallway. The interns fell into a quiet murmur, and Eren seemed unable to pull his eyes away as the brown-haired woman returned to the center of the floor, mic in hand. 

“Hello everyone. I’m Petra Ral, chief secretary, and we hope your commute went well. We’re excited to welcome you all here to the Trost Industries HQ today, and even more excited to welcome you all into our newly-revamped internship program,” she said, voice airy and rehearsed, offering a white-toothed smile at this pause. Short applause erupted from the seated interns until she continued with, “We’re going to go over the general structure of the program, some regulations and clearance forms, and then a few words from the program heads themselves.”

_ Program heads? _ Eren wasn’t sure what that meant, or who to expect. But Petra was speeding through slides on the screen before Eren could even consider it, and he felt like he should be taking notes until a packet was passed into his hands. 

“The program will begin next week and will extend through your respective winter breaks and the entirety of your Spring semesters, as was described in the application. We here at Trost expect 100% participation from each of you, and any absence will need to be followed up with a doctor's note or proof of family emergency. Alright, next. We ask for the utmost professional behavior within this building and at any event where you will be representing the company. This goes without saying, I believe. You’re all intelligent individuals.”

Eren listened as Petra listed out the different rules and regulations, such as no smoking, no drinking or arriving intoxicated, all work is expected to be turned directly into the program execs in a timely fashion, and by signing the mandatory forms, you consent to having your photo taken at any point in time. Armin’s words about the program being a publicity stunt rung in the back of Eren’s mind, but he disregarded it. 

Eren filled out his forms and passed them back up along with everyone else’s. A moment of silence passed as Petra looked expectantly at the same curtains that the screen had been revealed from. Then, she addressed the audience again, beaming, “Everyone. I want to introduce you to two very important individuals here at Trost, and arguably worldwide,” she began, and that was when Eren noticed the cameramen at either side of the chairs, cameras flashing repeatedly as they took photo after photo. 

“The co-chief executive officers of Trust Industries, _Mr. Erwin Smith and Mr. Levi Ackerman!_ ”  And then two men walked through the curtains, the first a tall blond with a million-dollar smile and a waving hand, and the second a shorter, dark-haired man with—

_ Holy shit. _

Eren’s jaw had gone slack in awe.  _ There’s no way. No fucking way _ . He watched as the two men took their places standing on either side of Petra, both of them the photo-copy opposite of the other, and one of them having been the very man Eren had eye-fucked at a bar only days ago. He wore another crisp, impeccably-tailored suit, hands in the pockets of his trousers, the same disinterested and slightly-downturned expression on his face that he’d worn sitting alone at the bar. The man he’d entered with was remarkably tall, incredibly broad-shouldered, looking like a Captain America action figure come to life. He radiated a charming, regal demeanor that his counterpart did not possess; but this was not to undermine  _ Levi’s _ own air. It was untouchable, polished, and yet completely unimpressed. 

And Eren had spoken to him in real life. What the  _ hell _ had a man like that been doing in a college bar? 

Eren then realized he had been so lost in his state of shock that he had missed the beginning portion of Captain America’s speech. “— and it is truly incredible to be standing in a room of so many fresh, creative minds, all of which will help inspire the next steps that Trost takes as a company and as a pioneer in its league.”

Enthusiastic clapping followed. Eren’s hands didn’t move. His attention and eyes were glued on _Levi Ackerman_ , who was surveying his own watch with those piercing grey eyes and seemingly wondering how long this would take. 

Those cold eyes had once locked with Eren’s own. They’d displayed amusement and coy playfulness, directed entirely at _Eren himself_. Now, this man held none of that same demeanor. 

Petra had the microphone again and was smiling like she’d just brought the President home to meet her parents. “Alright, everyone. This semester’s internship has an entirely new structure that I am very eager to share with you all. You have all been split up into two groups based on the college you attend and the answers you provided in your application. Then, in each group, there will be subgroups that will describe to each of you your jobs for the upcoming months. Different sectors of multi-level business support, analytics, sales and the like. And, most excitingly, the heads of each of these two respective umbrella groups will be the CEOs themselves, Mr. Smith and Mr. Ackerman!”

Eren’s breath caught in his throat. The stakes had just been raised, fucking _rocketed_ into the sky. The interns roared in clapping and chatter, ecstatic and shell-shocked looks on each of their faces. Even Jean had his eyes blown wide. They were going to be working directly under the  _ CEOs of Trost Industries _ . Each of these men probably had an individual net worth of billions of dollars. They had more executive power in each of their pinkies than nearly anyone in the Western Hemisphere, and they had agreed to take on the task of babysitting a hundred community college kids with zero real-world experience. All Eren could wonder was  _ why? _

And then Armin’s voice was there again.  _ Publicity.  _ It makes them look philanthropic, investing directly in the futures of a hundred low-income students. 

Eren hadn’t even considered that he might be working directly under Levi Ackerman until his fate had already been decided.

Petra’s voice came over again, and the interns stopped their celebrations. “Everyone received a packet that details the topics I covered today in the presentation. It also has a letter marked on the front page, either an A or a B. If your packet is labeled with an A, you will be reporting to Mr. Smith. If your packet is labeled with a B, you’ll be under Mr. Ackerman. Please, separate into the appropriate sides of the room, and wait patiently to introduce yourselves.”

Eren didn’t even have to look, it was as though the giant blue B on his packet was already staring back at him in taunt, papers burning in his hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!!!!!!!!!!! i'm back again<3


	4. I Never Told You My Name, Sir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The spoiled rotten and the rottenly spoiled.

“I get to work under  _ Erwin fucking Smith, _ ” Jean was saying at Eren’s side, voice low albeit bewildered. Eren barely even heard him, staring once again unabashedly at Levi Ackerman from across the room. He was a little relieved that he wouldn’t have to work directly with Jean every day, although he had a sinking feeling that working under Levi was going to be his own personal hell. At the mercy of the (married!) man with a stone-cold gaze, and alone, without a single person that he knew. That was, until Louise held up her packet and flashed her big blue B at him. 

“Twins,” she smiled. 

Together, they approached the forming group that belonged to Levi Ackerman. He was standing at the center of it all, a person with wild hair and even more intense eyes standing beside him, pushing up their glasses with every sentence they began. They were discussing something privately, and still, Levi looked like he would rather be anywhere else but there, something that made Eren instinctively want to frown. _If the man was going to act so annoyed the entire time, why bother with doing the program at all?_

“Good morning, you all!” The person was bursting with energy, arms flying out to emphasize their welcoming statement. Then, they clasped their hands together, saying, “I’m Dr. Hange Zoe. You may all call me the Dr., Hange, Dr. Hange… whatever floats your little metaphorical yachts! Mr. Levi’s group is centered around the creative aspects of business, even if he may not look like the most creative person in the world…”

“Thank you, Hange,” the familiar man beside them said firmly. The Dr. gave an unaffected smile. Eren was hanging onto Levi's every word from his spot ten feet away, watching as his narrowed eyes scanned the crowd before him. “Mr. Smith’s group is primarily logistics, financials, and analytics. Our group will be focusing on personnel, creative media, and marketing issues. We had you each split up into your subgroups based on the interests you provided, and you will be introduced to your respective team leaders following this formation. Any questions?”

Despite the offer,  _ Mr. Ackerman _ ’s demeanor did not suggest any patience for actual questions. 

Then, people lined up to shake his hand, Eren finding himself near the end of the line. Levi didn’t seem like he was enjoying this interaction at all, cringing slightly as his hand made contact with the other person’s, which Eren (and anyone else) would find incredibly rude. How was this man a business mogul when he couldn’t even present a hospitable face to his guests? It made no sense to Eren, and with another frown, he waited his turn to be dismissed by the man. Only, he _hadn’t_ forgotten that he and Levi had met prior to this moment. The question was whether or not Levi would acknowledge it. 

Once the guy in front of Eren removed himself from the line, Eren was left standing face-to-face with Levi. And if Levi recognized him, he hid it well, only a glint of something unreadable passing through his eyes before his mouth settled into a firm line. 

With every intention of confronting the man about their first meeting, Eren spoke first, saying, “You're—“

And, pointedly, Levi held out his  _ left hand _ , silver wedding band glinting as the light hit it. “Levi Ackerman. It’s nice to meet you, Eren.”

If Eren had any remaining amicable feelings toward the man, they died right then. Cold and robotic, Eren shook the man’s hand, lowly retorting, “I never told you my name,  _ sir. _ ”

The older man realized his misstep, but it didn't show. He blinked, resolve unfaltering, before answering, “Of course you did,  _ Eren _ , when we met in the lobby earlier.” 

Eren only locked his jaw into place to prevent him from saying something smart-assed. 

The man was  _ married _ . Married, and he’d let Eren shoot his pathetic shot that night at the bar. Married and rude and condescending and just as eerily beautiful as he had been in a dark-lit room, but married nonetheless. Eren decided he already hated the man with a passion. _What would your husband think, Levi Ackerman?_

As promised, the intern groups were next split up into their sub-sectors, and Eren found himself uncomfortably anticipating failure in his assigned area: PR direction. Why couldn't he have just been assigned to media direction, or better yet _creative_ direction? He would much rather be planning and producing advertisement strategies than typing up public statements for media outlets or conducting interviews. Fuck, Eren couldn’t even  _ write _ well, much less present an eloquent public-speaking piece. But if switching sub-sectors meant asking, or even worse,  _ begging _ , Mr. Dickhead, he would rather suffer for the next five months. Or forever. Even that seemed more bearable. 

Erwin’s team was lead up to level six, while Levi’s team was a floor above them on seven. It took several elevator trips to get everyone up to their respective floors, many opting for the stairs, but eventually Eren found himself in an open-concept branched office-area, with one main hallway in the center connecting each of the four separate rooms. Eren understood that each sub-sector probably worked within its own specific area, separated but not closed off from the other three. At the end of the hallway, there was a closed door with a small pixelated glass pane, and Eren briefly wondered what it lead to. 

“Here we are!” Hange bounded off of the elevator, clipboard in hand. Eren still didn’t know what their actual job was yet. “Look at this _beauty_ of an office space. You can thank yours truly for using her creative genius to design this floor! Alright, there are four rooms here. Two sub-sectors to a room. PR and media will be in this first one on the left. Marketing and user experience, the second left room. Advertising and creative direction will be in the furthest room on the right. Visuals and digital, this first room on the right. Your team leads are eagerly awaiting you all!”

Eren glanced around. Levi was nowhere to be found. Shortly, Eren was disappointed before he hardened that disappointment into gratitude. 

“I will be conveniently located _everywhere_ as you all work, because my soul is that of a mere drifter,” Hange declared, hand over their heart. Eren stared and the other fifty-something interns could only stare in silence in response. “And our dearest Mr. Ackerman will be located in the office at the end of the hall on days that you all are here. How _susceptible_ to visitors he will be is… a different story. He’ll make his rounds as well, so try not to bother him too much, little seedlings.”

Eren blinked.  _ Seedlings? _

And then Hange vanished, off to complete some new task it seemed. The interns looked awkwardly between each other, and Eren felt his nerves rising again. He was never usually like this in any situation, but he felt intimidated being in a building where the air felt too expensive for him to be breathing. He wandered over to his station, where a man named Thomas was greeting the incoming sector members. He revealed himself to be the team leader and seemed genuine enough to make Eren relax slightly.

Their first assignment seemed easy enough. Thomas told the interns to write up a mock media-outlet interview; imagine, he said, that CNN comes to them asking about a new business venture that Trost is taking on. “No need to get specific,” the man says simply. Eren, seated at his assigned desk area, was staring at the screen with his eyebrows furrowed. “Remember, this would be a developing project for Trost. We probably aren’t ready to reveal every aspect of it. Simply state Trost’s company mission, which you can find on page 3 of your packet, and provide some vague filler information with half-assed promises for more information in the future.”

Eren liked the way Thomas explained things, but he didn't know if he even had the bare skills needed to write a presentable public statement. 

He tried. He really did. But every sentence came out choppy, and he even had to pull up a thesaurus to add some good SAT level words in there just to make himself feel better. In the end, he was left with a paragraph, half seemingly written by a third-grader and the other half by the Queen of England. With a groan, Eren dropped his head onto the desk, reveling in his short break until it was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. 

“Hey,” it was Louise, voice in a whisper. She was on her way out of the room, probably heading to the bathroom or something. “Keep your head up. Literally. Try not to think so hard about it.”

Then she was leaving again, and Eren wished her words had been _any_ tiny bit soothing to him. Instead he only frowned, wondering how this could be easy for everyone in the room but him. 

And then, things turned from bad to worse. Just as Hange had promised, Levi returned from his unknown somewhere and began making the rounds. Bored, unwilling rounds, but rounds nonetheless. And since Eren’s subgroup was right off the elevator, his was the first that Levi hit, striding slowly into the room and looking around it as if analyzing it for any inappropriate behavior. He walked behind the first row of computers, throwing out a comment here or there that Eren could only hear, not see. And then he stops at a computer, leaning over slightly to get a more in-depth look, and Eren could read the absolute panic radiating from the brunette girl sitting there. Eren thought the man was reading everything she’d written when suddenly, he pulled back, a small bag of pretzels in his hand as he presented it to the room. 

“I  _ honestly _ didn’t think this would need to be addressed,” he said curtly. All eyes were on him. “But no food is allowed near the computers. Don’t you feed yourself before you go places?”

This last question was directed at the girl, who was sweating fear at this point. However, her “yes, sir” fell on deaf ears. Levi had already tossed the pretzels out and was continuing on his hunt. 

God, how had Eren ever found the guts to approach him that night? He supposed that the alcohol in his system had probably helped, but Jesus Christ, was Levi Ackerman intimidating. This man looked like he was on the verge of a massacre streak, arms folded over his chest as he stalked around the room. His eyes glanced in disinterest over each of the computers, and Eren watched him while he did so, his own writing having been completely abandoned from his mind. It was like he’d forgotten Levi was going to look at _his_ work too until Levi was right there, directly behind Eren’s back, heat radiating off from his body the man was so close. Eren stilled, feeling Levi pause.  _ Why me? Just move on. You’ll get to read it all later anyway! _

Still, Levi didn't move. Instead, he reached over Eren’s shoulder, the fabric of his jacket sleeve meeting that of Eren’s shirt. That was enough for Eren’s breathing to halt, dreading whatever was going to come next. He figured Levi was going to tell him to work faster, write more, but instead, Levi took ahold of the computer mouse. 

In one click, swipe, and backspace, he’d  _ deleted  _ everything Eren had written. Everything the boy had wracked his brain over for half an hour. 

Eren felt like the air had been knocked right out of him. Louise, having walked back into the room, even gave a small audible noise of surprise behind them. Everyone else in the room remained eerily silent.

Levi straightened, brushing out his suit jacket. Eren turned slowly, mouth agape, unbelieving eyes meeting Levi’s stone-like gaze. “Rewrite it,” the older man said, holding Eren's gaze in a challenge. _Go on, I dare you to talk back_. His command had not been a suggestion. “This time, at least with middle-school level vocabulary, if you're capable.”

Eren could’ve passed out. He was not going to survive the next five months here. 

Still, as Levi turned to move on, Eren caught his eye again. He could’ve _sworn_ the man was fighting back a smirk, a humorous glint in his eye. So he thought this was fucking funny, did he? 

Eren would show him funny. 

At the end of orientation day, Eren found himself brain dead from the number of times he'd written and rewritten the same damn paragraph. After their little incident, Levi disappeared for the rest of the day and Eren didn't see him again until all of the interns had reconvened on the fifth floor. The room was alive with chatter about their first day on the job, but Eren had little to say and chose to sit with his arms crossed over his chest, totally _not_ sulking. 

"It couldn't have been  _ that _ bad," Jean was saying. Louise shook her head. 

"Oh it was. He deleted everything Eren had written and told him to redo it."

Eren didn't react, only keeping his eyes trained on the front of the room. _Asshole. Thinks he can treat people like shit because he's filthy rich._ There Levi stood, hands in his pockets, blasé expression on his face. Erwin was beside him, chatting up Petra, who seemed to soak it all in eagerly. You wouldn't even think the woman worked there with how quick she was to lap up the two men's time. Levi stood between them but said nothing, his own eyes focused on the toe of his perfectly-polished shoe. 

Eren wanted to strangle him. 

Petra seemed to excuse herself, running off to grab something. Erwin now said something to Levi, who gave a slight shrug. This reaction was somehow funny, it appeared, because Erwin let out a laugh and placed his hand on the back of Levi's strong but slender neck, giving an _affectionate rub._

When Levi scowled but didn't slice the man's hand into oblivion, a lightbulb went off in Eren's head. The matching silver wedding bands. The oddly affectionate behavior. With a jolt, Eren  grabbed his phone and opened Google, typing feverishly until his theory was unfortunately proven true. _Of course, how had Eren missed it at first?_

Erwin Smith and Levi Ackerman, long-time business partners, were married four years ago on April 26th. 

_ Oh, fuck me. Not only is this dickhead married, but he's also married to Captain America himself. _

Eren stood no chance. Sure, Levi had remodeled himself into a trophy asshole today, but Eren could only feel mortified that he'd even considered hitting on someone who was married to _that_ , a poster boy American model. Levi's behavior today had made Eren want to avoid the man at all possible. Even so, Eren would be a liar if he tried to say that Levi looked any less attractive in that suit and tie, commanding respect, than he had that night at the bar. Levi Ackerman was _fine_. And Eren was going to have to see him, and be berated by him, three days a week for the next 5 months. 

After Petra gave a short speech, congratulating the interns on their hard work today, they were dismissed to mingle or leave. Many jumped up out of their seats at the chance to hold conversation with the two business tycoons at the front of the room, but Eren felt like he would implode if he didn't escape the building quickly. He waved a short goodbye to Louise, told Jean not to annoy her too much, and then bolted for the elevators at the first chance. Once in the elevator, he pressed the ground floor button. When he glanced out into the crowd to see if anyone had noticed his early departure, he swore he locked gazes with Levi if only for a split second. 

He thought he'd imagined it as the doors shut, but then Levi shot him a half-smirk just as the doors collided and closed. 

Levi Ackerman was _fucking with him._

On the train home, Eren had his headphones in and was peering out the window at the blur of nothingness, brows furrowed without having realized. His group been sent home with the task of completing their individual press statements, and they were expected to return on Friday with it finished and ready to be handed over to Levi himself. It seemed like the sort of task to gauge where their skills in public speaking and writing stood, and yet Levi surely had not treated Eren's work that way. Had he been an asshole to Eren just to spite him for their previous meeting, to give a clear message that Levi held the power if Eren tried to reveal any secrets? It wasn't like they'd done anything that night; hell, Levi wouldn't even give Eren his number. But the look in the man's eyes, the way he sized Eren up and _liked what he saw_ … he'd even called Eren gorgeous. 

Was flirting even considered cheating? Eren let out a huff, dropping his head against the window. 

He dusted the snow off of his coat and stomped out his shoes before he entered the apartment, tossing the coat over one of the kitchen chairs to dry. Mikasa seemed to be gone, her hat and scarf absent from the coat hooks beside the door. Armin, on the other hand, was sitting on the couch, engaged in reading some giant ass book with the TV on mute. 

Hearing Eren enter, Armin shot his gaze to him excitedly. "Well?" he asked, blue eyes wide as he shut his book. "How was it?"

"Not awful," Eren answered. In fact, it  _ had _ been sort of awful, but he wasn't going to reveal any of that struggle to his familial unit. "The two people overseeing the entire program are the CEOs. Go figure."

"Erwin Smith and Levi Ackerman?" Armin asked in wonder, body twisted to get a better view of Eren as the taller boy made his way to the kitchen. "Wow, you're kidding! They have to be two of the busiest people in the city!"

"They found the time, I guess," grumbled Eren as he grabbed a Coke from the fridge. _Unforunately._

"Oh, I'd _kill_ to meet Erwin Smith. What a genius, and not to mention he's like a Ken doll," Armin rambled on, stars in his eyes as he clasped his hands together in thought. "He's one of the richest men in the country, probably the world."

"And Levi?" Eren heard himself ask, almost defensively, popping the tab of the can. _Enough of this talk about Mr. Perfect._ "What about him?"

Armin was jolted from his daydream. Raising his eyebrows in consideration, he hummed, "Well, he's pretty handsome too. Scary isn't my type, though."

"No kidding," Eren commented aimlessly. 

Eren worked on a few other assignments that were due within the next two died, pride still stinging every time he thought of the internship assignment. At dinner, Mikasa came back from the store, having gone after work. She greeted the boys, who sat at the table eating a chili that Armin prepared. Then, she placed something on the table in front of Eren. 

Eren paused, spoon in hand, to look at the intruding object. Then, his eyes flashed to Mikasa in surprise. "New pencils?"

Mikasa nodded, setting the rest of the bags on the kitchen counter. "I figured you could use some new ones, your old sketching pencils are almost down to the nub."

Eren examined them. He'd heard about the brand before, and a set of 25 pencils was likely upwards of twenty dollars. To be frank, the three of them did not have the extra money to splurge on things like sketching pencils. But Mikasa seemed to be finished discussing the subject, bringing her own bowl of chili to the table.

"So," she began, taking her seat. "Tell me all about the internship."

On Thursday, Eren went to class. Got lost in statistics, ate lunch in the student union. Stared blankly at the blinking cursor on his screen, drowning out the noise of the other students with the music in his headphones. He wanted to get Levi back for his microaggression, but he didn't want to be dropped from the whole program or anything drastic. Eren could only take it so far. Reading the prompt again, he forced his fingers to move atop the keyboard. He _was_ going to do something to get under the man's skin, that much was for sure.

_ Trost Industries has taken on a newly developing business venture. Without getting into specifics, type a public press statement for a news station, evading giving preliminary details while also promising to offer more information in the future.  _

Sounded simple enough, but he could already tell that pleasing a man like Levi would _never_ be easy. 

Eren shifted in his seat, pushing down other thoughts that arose at the mental comment. He had two possible strategies; one, draft the most perfect public statement anyone had ever heard, and then promptly rub it in Levi's dumb face. Or two-- make the entire thing a sexual innuendo and present it innocently on his CEO's desk. 

He would have plenty of time to submit perfect assignments in the future. The second option just seemed like so much more fun. 

Beginning to type, Eren held back an amused smirk at the ideas churning in his head, abandoning the food he'd bought until it had long grown cold.


	5. Writing is Not My Strong-Suit, Sir.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren's plan backfires. Or does it?

"Here you go, sir," Eren said politely. He placed the printed statement in Thomas's hand. 

"Oh, Thomas is alright," the blond man gave a smile, accepting Eren's submission and placing it with the others. "Thank you, Eren."

Now, Eren only had to wait. Surely after reading his statement, Levi would back off from his petty antics. He would get off Eren's back for good, and the mere thought of sticking it to Levi had Eren leaning back in his chair, hands folded behind his head, and a slick grin on his face. 

While Thomas was briefing the group on their next assignment, Levi himself walked into the room, waving the man off as a signal to carry on talking. Eren's eyes followed Levi as he picked up the stack of papers, Hange trailing behind him with a clipboard and making marks as they traveled along. With the papers tucked under his arm, Levi said something short and sharp to Hange before they made their way out of the room. He didn't so much as glance in Eren's direction, causing a small frown to arise on the brunet's face. 

He wanted to get a reaction from the man, he realized. The only reaction he ever seemed to stir from the stoic man was a negative one, but even  _ that _ was better than the total dismissal of Eren's existence. 

_ Everyone else here is probably thinking the exact opposite, _ he thought to himself, glancing around. _T_ _ hey just want to hide from him when he comes around. _

Levi had called Eren  _ gorgeous _ , though. Eren knew he held that over the man, if nothing else, since his appearance had in no way changed over the course of one week. 

Today, the interns could choose partners. Louise and Eren looked at each other, and Eren was relieved that he didn't have to go around asking people to work with him. Louise brought her things over to sit beside him and they went to work on their new joint assignment-- to make a comprehensive list of every major news station in the area, complete with contact numbers and emails, and then create a spreadsheet from the gathered information. Stupid busywork, but it was easy enough. Every group had a different assignment this time, though Eren had no clue what anyone else was working on. He tried to focus solely on his and Louise's work, helping by Googling everything she asked him to. 

Before he knew it, four hours had come to pass. The workday had gone by incredibly quickly what with the two of them being engrossed in their research. Eren was just happy that he wasn't having to write some impressive paragraph again. On this thought, his mind drifted to the paper he had submitted earlier, and he had to hold back a grin. He only wished he could've been there when Levi read the damn thing. 

Nearing the end of the day, Hange bounded into the room, announcing that she had the reviewed statement papers to return to the interns.  _ Oh shit, what if Hange was the one that reviewed them? _ Eren panicked, eyes going a little wide in worry. As Hange handed back the papers, he cleared his throat, asking, "Um, Dr. Hange? Did you review our assignments, or…?”

“Oh no, angel face. You poor souls had your work reviewed by Satan himself. Try to keep the tears to a minimum,” she answered, boisterous but entirely serious. The room was enraptured in a somber overcast at her little tidbit of information, and suddenly nobody felt like talking. Beside him, Louise was handed her paper. It had red ink markings all over it, almost more than her black typing. 

Giving a pained smile, she said, “Well, I tried.”

Then, Eren’s paper was handed to him. He prepared himself for the worst, probably an array snarky comments littering the page. He only hoped he got his point across to Levi that he wasn’t going to bow down to his intimidation. 

Only, when Eren flipped over his paper, it was all but blank besides two words written in all red capitals.

“‘ _ See me _ ’?” Louise asked, looking over his shoulder.

Eren felt fucked. 

What had the thought was going to come from his little conniving plan, again? Oh, right. He was going to stick it to Levi, and Levi was going to just take it absently?  _ How dumb can you be, Jaeger? _ While everyone else was collecting their things and making their way to the elevator. Eren sat chewing on his nails, attempting and failing to build the courage to approach the office at the end of the hall. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” offered Louise with no real certainty, placing a hand on Eren’s shoulder in an attempt to console him. It did very little for his nerves. 

“He’s sent straight from Hell,” Eren muttered, nearly pouting at this point. “He’s probably going to tear apart my paper and then skin me alive, or something.” 

After most of the interns had emptied out from the room, Eren forced himself to take himself and his backpack out into the hallway. Approaching the door felt like approaching a ticking time bomb, and he was the one volunteered to take the hit. 

He turned the handle and slowly entered the room, taking in the contents of it. Before he had the chance to even glance around the room, Levi’s voice spoke up, annoyed and cold. 

“Don’t you know how to knock?” 

Eren paused for a moment before shutting the door behind him. “My bad,” he offered nervously, and noncommittally. Levi wasn’t even looking at him; instead, he was wearing glasses and peering down at something on his desk, cigarette in his hand. “You wanted to see m—“

“Sit down,” Levi barked. “And shut up.”

Eren did as told, for once. And quickly. 

Sitting across from the statuesque man, Eren’s heart was going berserk in his ribcage, both from adrenaline and nervousness. He’d never seen those black frames before, and they somehow highlighted Levi’s high cheekbones and thick eyelashes. Eren shifted slightly in his seat, watching the dark-haired man’s strong hand move across the paper he was marking in silence for a good five minutes. Eren’s leg was shaking, his nails were between his teeth; he was growing antsier by the second.  _ Come on, just say something already. _

Most notably, Levi had abandoned his suit jacket to the back of his chair. He was wearing only his white dress shirt and tie, and although every single button was fastened shut, it still felt like Levi was exposed somehow. Even at the bar, he had been wearing a blazer buttoned over his torso, and if he’d even been so bold as to leave just the top button of his dress shirt undone today, Eren may have lost his poor mind. 

Suddenly Levi set down his pen and picked up the paper he’d been marking on. Holding it in up inquisitively, he asked, “Is this funny to you?”

Eren shrunk. Cold, gray eyes were piercing right through him, not one note of sympathy on his face. Levi had been scribbling all over the back of a copy of his assignment. He’d scanned it and kept it, and suddenly Eren felt very vulnerable knowing Levi had it to hold over him. 

“No, sir,” was Eren’s lie of a reply. Well, at least, he didn't think it was very funny now. 

“I’m sure  _ none _ of this was accidental,” Levi continued, chucking the paper forward so it fell at Eren’s side of the desk. “If you find it so humorous, why don’t you read it aloud for me?” 

“Sir—“ Eren tried interjecting, but Levi was having none of it.

“ _ Now _ , Jaeger. Pick up the fucking paper.

So Eren slowly reached out to take the paper in his hands, which were on the verge of shaking at the harsh tone of Levi's voice. The front side had only his own typed submission, while the entire backside was marked in red pen. He didn’t even dare flip it to read what Levi had written. As he opened his mouth to speak, Levi ordered, “Stand. You’re presenting something before your boss.”

Eren stood, but he let out a minuscule huff while doing so. _ Who died and made him King? _

Holding the page in one hand, Eren put the other in his back pocket, attempting to seem lax and casual about the situation despite his rising blood pressure. Levi leaned back into his chair, folding his hands over his lap and regarding Eren with an expression so apathetic that made Eren feel like he could just crawl right out of his skin. 

_ Really, why had he thought writing this would be a good idea, again? _

Shakily, Eren began reading. " _Ehem…_ In response to the questions regarding Trost's new adventurous _affair_ , which is… continuously developing, we will have more information to provide within a few weeks," he paused, meeting Levi's eyes. It was a mistake, as he saw daggers, and Eren quickly looked back down to the paper. "For now, it is looking to be a _mutually…_ erm, _beneficial_ _transaction_ between all parties involved, and will help Trost Industries complete its mission to further the… _interests_ and prospects of all clients and stakeholders. We hope that all future advancements succeed in… divulging the attraction of these… two parties."

Eren was very firmly regretting his decision to write the assignment the way he had, though that regret had begun long before he'd had to read it out loud. 

Levi said nothing, merely holding Eren's wavering gaze with his own, unrelenting. Finally, he shifted forward, placing his elbows on the large oak desk and tapping his chin with his index fingers. Eren couldn't help the fact that his attention followed those fingers directly to Levi's lips. He couldn't control his eyes shifting momentarily to those lips, watching as they parted from one another before Levi spoke.

"Tell me this, Eren," the man finally spoke. "Is this internship a fucking joke to you?"

Eren winced, nearly unable to find his words. "No, sir."

"Do you even want this position, or are you going to continue mocking  _ my  _ company and wasting  _ my _ time?" Levi asked him now, standing from his chair with one swift movement, hands planted firmly on the desk before him. "There are millions of shithead kids just like you who would  _ kill _ to be in the position you're in right now. And you can't even submit a fucking public statement worth half a shit."

"Sir, I--" Eren began, pausing as he fully expected Levi to cut him off. When the man stayed silent, boring holes into Eren's face, the boy continued, "I  _ tried _ to write something good and you... deleted it. So I just--"

"So you decided to hand me a _borderline_ _pornographic_ _paragraph_ with horrendous grammar and call it a day," Levi bit sardonically. _Well, when you put it like that…_ "What did you think would happen, huh? That I would applaud you on your half-assed work just because you threw yourself at me with fifth-grade level innuendos?"

Eren had to bite his tongue.  _ Okay, I fucking get it, my work is bad.  _ He stayed silent, despite his thoughts, only holding Levi's gaze challengingly. 

"Well?" demanded the raven-haired man in white-hot anger.

"What do you want me to say?" Eren replied smartly, blood starting to boil beneath his skin.  _ This dickhead thinks he can just talk to people however he wants. To  _ me _ however he wants. What does he expect from me after all of that? _

"Defend yourself or get the fuck out of my building," Levi said plainly, almost lazily. "Where did all that confidence suddenly go, Jaeger? I have zero patience for little kids who can't back their words."

It was a challenge.  _ Oh, I can back my words. If you gave me one chance…  _ However, Eren somehow had the sense to realize that if he did not back down and allow Levi to win, this would go entirely south entirely too quickly and Eren would not be welcome back. 

Jaw locked into place, he ground his teeth together as he replied, "Writing is not my strong-suit, sir."

"Flirting overtly with married men is, it seems."

Eren was finally speechless. The ring on Levi's left hand seemed to pull at his attention but he refused to allow his eyes to follow it. That alone would mean defeat. Still, Eren could feel his fist tighten at his side and nearly crumpled the paper in his right hand, as well. He definitely left a few creases. 

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Eren answered, voice coming out strained as he attempted to remain calm. "All I did was follow the assignment prompt, and I thought I did so  _ gorgeously. _ "

_Yes_ , it was petty. It didn't even sound like something Eren, or any normal English-speaking person, would say. And yet the slight widening of Levi's eyes before he narrowed them coldly made the comment totally, entirely, and completely worth it. 

Moments of silence passed, but Eren could almost see the visible release of tension in Levi's expression. 

"Do not make me have to call you into this office again," Levi said, his tone of voice asserting that this conversation was over. "And do your fucking job."

Before Levi had even sat back in his chair, Eren had all but evaporated. He was gone, halfway down the hall with the paper scrunched tightly within his fist. By some miracle, Levi hadn't fired him. He still had his spot at the internship and if he played his cards right, he'd hopefully be able to avoid the man entirely. No more office meetings. Eren would just do what he was supposed to do from here on out and hope it was enough to be deemed acceptable. 

Or at least, he would try his best to. 

-

Prying the Rolex from his wrist, Levi slumped into the chair beneath him. It was ridiculous, really, how much the watch had cost. He'd never have spent that amount of money on something so insignificant, never mind the fact that Levi thought it was plain ugly. It had been a gift from none other than Erwin himself, and for media purposes, Levi made it a point to wear it every once in a blue moon. 

He wasn't a jewelry person. He wasn't flashy at all, but for public appearance sake, he wore the designer suits and the occasional piece of jewelry, but he kept to a simple wardrobe of monotone colors. And now, as he unbuttoned his suit jacket, Levi appreciated the monotonous tones of the room, as well. It was a stark difference to the sea of chaos he was forced to navigate when working with the interns, or even Hange alone. The silence, the muted colors, the emptiness of the living area of his home was comfort enough. 

And yet, Levi found himself tense, knee bouncing where he sat. There was only one real explanation, and as Levi lit a cigarette between his lips, he felt obliged to acknowledge exactly what that irritant was. 

A shithead kid with piss-poor writing skills, half-backed confidence, and a pathetic need to be praised. 

Levi took in a drag of smoke, blowing it slowly out into the room as he considered the fact that, most likely, Eren didn't even know his own predisposition. Levi had a plan to test his theory, if for no reason other than curiosity to know if he was right. Call it boredom, call it whatever you will-- Levi was intrigued to see just how far the boy could be pushed. 

Erwin walked into the room, ruining the silence with his booming voice as he talked to someone on the phone. He stood at the window, one hand on his hip, the other holding his phone to his ear. 

Levi drowned him out, taking another drag.  _ He's blocking my goddamn sunlight. _

The call ended, and Erwin put away his phone, turning to Levi with a sigh. "I'm going into work today."

"Are you?" asked Levi, noncommittally. "I'll be here."

"I may not come back tonight. Business could run late."

His  _ business, maybe, but it's none of mine. _ "How unfortunate."

Erwin said nothing to this, eyes remaining trained on Levi, who did not bother a glance in the mans' direction at all. Yet, in his peripheral, Levi could pinpoint the slicked back, blond hair, blue button-up shirt, and brown slacks, as well as the crossed-arm stance that the man held. 

"You're sure you wouldn't rather go in, spend quality time with your little interns?"

Now, Levi's eyes slid over to meet his husband's. "Don't mock me, Erwin."

With another phone call coming through, Erwin answered as he exited the room, leaving Levi to his thoughts and his cigarette once more. He smoked the last bit of it before putting it out in the ashtray beside him. It wasn't that he didn't have work to be done, or that, technically, he was under a public spoken obligation to attend every work-day that the interns put in. It was more so that Levi was both unwilling and unwanting to spend another day dealing with the emotional exhaustion of Eren Jaeger, at least not before he had formulated a plan of attack.

It was probably the most interesting thing that had happened to Levi all year, having an 18-year-old with nothing to offer but the grin on his face approach him in a dingy bar, one that Levi had only been inside of for business matters, with all the gusto and guts of a kicked puppy. Levi had never seen such a display of oblivious over-confidence and simultaneous insecurity in one cheeky shit. There was a first time for everything, he supposed. 

What had Levi been thinking when he engaged the stupid kid's antics, anyway? He should've told him to fuck off, and it should've ended there. Now, the brat was in his workspace three times a week, looking at him with those eyes that begged  _ "Acknowledge me!" _ every time their paths crossed. It was poorly masked with hateful glares, but Levi knew that beneath the facade, Eren only grew restless if he was ignored. 

_ It doesn't matter one way or another, the kid doesn't even know what he wants.  _

And still, Jaeger seemed intent on starting a game that he couldn't finish.  _ That's alright _ , Levi figured. He would finish it for him. 


	6. Sir, Could You be a Little Nicer?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How rude! Well, wait.

"Wow, Eren," Armin murmured, holding the overly-critiqued paper away from himself. "He really hated  _ everything _ you wrote."

"Oh, believe me, I know."

"He put comments everywhere. Like, on every single word."

"Yup. He just hates my entire existence."

Armin asked, "What did you do to the man?" and Eren knew it was supposed to be a rhetorical question. Still, he answered it to himself;  _ Well, for starters, I flirted with him at a bar. _

But it just didn't make sense. Even in his drunken state, Eren would've never come onto someone with a  _ wedding ring _ on their finger. Levi had been holding a drink that night and his left hand had been on full, complete display. Eren could only assume Levi hadn't been wearing his ring  _ at all _ that night, and the man had definitely returned at least some of the... flirtatious sentiment. So why was he suddenly acting like an insulted spouse? Eren hadn't just imagined everything that happened that night. He also  _ definitely _ hadn't imagined Levi's lingering gazes and disappearing smirks that appeared every so often at the internship. 

Eren was currently relaxed against the couch, bag of chips in hand and TV turned to a random episode of Rick & Morty. It was Saturday afternoon and, for once, the sun was shining down, melting some of the snow off the roofs. Exams were in a couple of weeks now. Still, Eren didn't feel like going anywhere or doing anything. He was sulking, licking his wounds from the day before and trying to distract himself from the way his gut twisted when he recounted the way Levi had scolded him. 

Normally, he hated being lectured on his actions, work, or behavior. When Mikasa did it Eren wanted to rip the hair out of his head. It only proved to stir red, hot anger within him and made his eyes burn in his head. It made him want to argue back, fight the condescension in the voice that was undermining him, and the instance with Levi had been no different. But Levi had lectured Eren in a  _ different _ way. Never once did he imply that Eren  _ couldn't _ do the work, or that Eren didn't  _ deserve _ to be at the internship. He asked Eren if he  _ wanted _ to be there, threw the work in his face almost as if he knew Eren  _ could _ do better. All while subtly egging Eren's antics on, questioning his fleeting confidence and his ability to back his advances. Eren might've actually been imagining that part, though. 

It made him feel funny, both in his stomach and in the goosebumps on his skin. Was Levi trying to imply that he believed Eren was capable, without actually saying it? Eren couldn't be sure. But he knew that, whatever this giddy feeling was, he wanted to experience more of it. 

He let out a pitiful groan, one that Armin ignored as he read over the notes Levi had left on the paper again. 

Later, Eren took a shower, convincing himself that he needed to leave the house before he ended up doing nothing but lay around all day. Against his better judgment, he texted Jean once again and asked him if he was doing anything tonight. Jean promptly invited him out again with his friends, adding on,  _ "Louise is coming too. _ " 

Louise was nice. She was pretty in a... girl-next-door sort of way, if he thought about it. There was Christa, too, who was feminine and soft and laughed at everything Eren said. So why wasn't he excited at the idea of going out with a couple of attractive girls? Why was he only wondering to himself if they'd hit Uptown again, and if Levi would be there tonight, and if approaching him in public was some sort of breach of his internship contract? 

Eren drew, locked in his room. He drew the cityscape as the snow melted outside his window. He drew a familiar silver band, plain and stark, and stared at it incredulously as though he hadn't realized he'd been drawing it at all. Then, he slammed his sketchbook closed and threw it back into his backpack for another day.  _ You're going insane, Jaeger. _

That night, Eren found himself at Jean's apartment door again. He had deja-vu as he was yanked into the room, just as before, only wearing different clothes this time. He greeted Jean's friends, gave a short hug to Louise, and then four Fireball shots were pushed into his hands and Eren couldn't complain.

"The work isn't even hard," Louise was saying, afterward. They'd all moved to sit on the floor around Jean's coffee table. Eren figured she looked nice, wearing a crop top with her hair curled. But he had to actively consider her appearance to come to that conclusion, and it was pissing him off a little. "It's just a matter of writing anything that Mr. Ackerman-- our boss-- finds worthy of not tossing in the trash."

Eren now frowned distinctly into his drink.

"Oh, come on. They are not  _ that _ bad," Jean said, pouring himself and Connie another shot. "This internship is a breeze."

"Easy for you to say. You have Mr. Congeniality grading you on your work. He probably delivers your papers hand-wrapped in Louis Vuitton ribbon and a kiss imprinted as a grade," Eren countered, more bitterly than he'd intended. He kept his eyes trained on his drink, the vision of a sour-faced man appearing in the rum. Christa snickered beside him, as Eren knew she would. Louise gave a low whistle. 

"Not true," Jean pouted. "I just earn my keep, crybaby."

Marco patted Eren on the back in solidarity. "It'll be alright, Eren. I'm sure you'll figure out what you have to do to please him."

Eren  _ could _ think of a  _ few _ things. 

But no, not really. Although Eren liked to believe that Levi would eagerly accept any advances Eren made, he had a feeling the lethal man would just find a way to put him in the ground. One off-handed comment at a bar did not equal mutual attraction, and Eren had to keep reminding himself of this. After all, his entire work submission had been a flirtatious advance, and Levi had seemed entirely unaffected, if not exasperated, in response. 

They did not go to Uptown. In fact, they ended up staying in that night and watching movies before everyone got too tired and had to call it a night. Marco excused himself to pass out in Jean's bed, to which Eren shot the blond man a raised eyebrow. Jean returned him a look that said "mind-your-business", so Eren said nothing about it. Sasha was practically carried out of the room by a surprisingly astute Christa, heading to the train station that was, thankfully, right outside of Jean's building. Eren was the least drunk of the three guys present and therefore felt he should accompany the two girls outside. 

As Sasha leaned heavily on Christa for support, the three of them made their way to the elevator. Jean was just lucky to have enough money to live somewhere with a consistently working elevator system, unlike Eren. 

"Will she be okay?" Eren asked as the elevator door closed them. Christa glanced at Sasha, nearly asleep with her head on Christa's shoulder. 

"Oh yeah," Christa smiled. "She gets like this every weekend. We live in the same building."

Eren nodded, giving a small polite smile in return. He wasn't exactly sure what to say. Then, as the elevator descended floors, Christa asked, "Eren, are you going to be okay at the internship?"

Eren blinked. "Um, I hope so. What makes you ask that?"

"It just seems to be bothering you a little. You were quiet all night, staring at your drink like it had offended you," Christa said with a short, breathy laugh. "You shouldn't, you know, torture yourself if you hate it that much."

"I don't hate it," Eren replied, though it didn't even sound reassuring to his own ears. "It's not the work, it's… well, Levi himself. And I can't exactly fix that problem."

"Maybe you should just talk to him?"   
  
"He's talked to  _ me _ already. It's not even possible to have a two-way conversation with him. Besides, what would I say?  _ Sir, could you be a little nicer?  _ He would laugh in my face."

"Oh," Christa said, deflated. "He does sound pretty bad."

Eren crashed on Jean's couch that night after Louise excused herself to go home, as well. And he dreamt of Levi Ackerman being  _ incredibly _ nice, after all. 

-

Another day in the office, another day of Eren holding his head in his hands with his fingers fisted in his hair.  _ This shit is impossible. _

Why had God decided that this would be his fate? Spending his days in front of a computer screen, doing the  _ one thing _ he couldn't do well. Trying to impress the most discourageable person he had ever met in his life. The blinking cursor on the screen only taunted him now, and the stark white space of his mostly-blank word document was a testament to Eren's failure.

Within the next few hours, Eren and all of the other interns had written up their own rendition of a contractual statement between two imaginary parties. Although Eren wasn't confident in the quality of his work, he was happy that it was over with. They were dismissed to lunch, and as he sat beside Louise, Eren attempted to keep his mind off of the inevitable fate of his document, which would be demolished and defaced at the hand of a certain man's stupid red pen. 

"I don't know a thing about legal work," Louise said solemnly, picking a piece of crust off of her sandwich. "This assignment was a little ridiculous. Don't they have lawyers for this sort of thing?"

"They just want to keep us busy," Eren grumbled before he stretched his arms out in a yawn. "Levi will come into the room, make a couple of people cry, and then we'll all be sent home. It's the same thing every day."

Eren was wrong, though. When they returned to their desks after lunch, Hange and Levi entered the room at the same time. Eren's eyes caught his immediately, and Eren held the gaze firmly, willing Levi to do the same. Just for a moment. But Levi didn't, turning away from the boy's direction after one short beat. He looked amazing in the most simplistic, classic suits, Eren acknowledged dismally. All Levi had to do was  _ exist _ and he looked  _ perfect _ . Eren could appreciate an outfit that no doubt cost a couple of grand, but imagining the man in a t-shirt and sweats made Eren's fucking  _ mouth water _ . Disgruntled, he buried his face in the computer screen again. 

_ Get it together, you idiot. _

Levi began stalking around the room, arms crossed over his chest. Eren tried to keep his eyes on his screen, knowing that Levi would likely be over to critique him directly anyway. The man made a few passive comments to the other interns in the room, making his way closer and closer to Eren's seat. He stopped at the person to Eren's left, a guy Eren had never said more than a few words to, and stared intently at the guy's screen. 

"You could at least  _ pretend _ like you graduated high school," Levi cut sharply, and Eren swore the guy beside him winced. "Cut the bullshit out, nobody has time to read a contract the length of a fucking  _ Twilight _ novel."

_ Shit, I'm next.  _ Eren panicked as Levi began to move on, stepping closer to Eren's direction.  _ What will he say? He'll probably delete everything like last time. Or maybe he'll call me to his office so he can cuss me out again-- _

Only, Levi breezed past him, without so much as a glance in Eren's direction. He stopped at Louise, scanning her screen with a firm look. 

_ Wait, what? _

Eren couldn't help it. His mouth was hanging open just slightly as he stared at the man in disbelief.  _ He completely ignored me. Didn't say shit! He knows my work is awful, why the fuck wouldn't he stop at me? _

It was almost ridiculous, Eren thought bitterly, how pissed off the fact that he'd been looked over had left him, his mind clouded by his incredulity. Every other person in this room would be  _ relieved _ if Levi skipped over their work. And yet here Eren was, eyes wide as saucers, washed over with this sense of dreaded…  _ disappointment? _

He almost said something, almost called Levi over to  _ him, _ almost  _ asked _ the man to tear his work apart. Anything was better than being ignored, dismissed. It was stupid, he knew, but he didn't care. It was the same feeling Eren had when Levi had shaken his hand at orientation, pretending like he was just another annoying intern. And maybe Eren  _ was _ , but he had managed to rile responses out of the man thus far, and didn't intend on losing his footing now. 

After Levi left, Eren knew he wasn't getting any more work done. He sat in his chair, able to hear his pulse in his ears, and deleted everything he wrote. 

-

"Here,  _ sir.  _ My work from the day."

The completely blank, stark-white piece of paper fluttered down onto Levi's desk, landing promptly before the man. Eren had barged in, not saying a single word, not even giving one knock. He'd even locked the door behind him. The rest of the interns had all gone home, and the lights were even being shut off outside of Levi's office. Either Eren had waited to find the courage, or he had wanted this moment to be private. Either way, as the two men now held one intense gaze, Eren felt his palms growing sweaty.  _ Come on, Levi, what do you have to say? _

The older man removed his glasses, stoic expression unchanging as he peered down at the blank piece of printer paper. He pushed his own work out of the way, Eren's eyes watching his every movement. Then, he folded his hands on his desk, and asked, 

"Are you suicidal, or just a fucking idiot?"

Eren felt his jaw clench, as well as his fists curling at his side. "You skipped over me today."

A moment went by of Levi regarding him a lethal look, before the man sucked in a breath and replied, "And what is your fucking point? You should've been  _ ecstatic _ that I didn't tear your work apart. Now you're in my office, paying me back with insolence and  _ blank fucking piece of paper? _ "

Eren took a deep breath. "You know my work is shit. You  _ know _ I can't write. And yet you breezed right past me like… like I didn't exist--"

In one swift movement, Levi was standing opposite him again, a repeat of their last stance within the office. “Let’s get one thing clear,  _ Jaeger;  _ I don’t give a  shit about your feelings. I don’t care if I hurt them, or if you get offended. That’s life, so get the fuck over it. To me, you'd be _lucky_ not to exist.”

Eren said nothing. He only stared at Levi, challenging him.  _ What do I have to do to make you snap?  _

Even just being in the room, steps away from the man with the door shut and locked— it did something to Eren. Made his stomach tighten, his pulse increase. And when Levi’s gaze broke their cold stare-off to flicker to his lips and then back to his eyes, Eren was on the verge of  _ losing it.  _ Levi's eyes  dared him to retort with some smart-ass comment.

“I’m  _ trying _ ,” Eren insisted. He didn’t want to specify what exactly he was trying for. “You think I just don’t care about this job? I don’t know how to please you!” 

Levi could think of a few ways, himself. 

One beat passed. Levi's hands were placed firmly on the desk, one atop the paper Eren had submitted. “Your work is subpar at best. You have the vocabulary of an elementary student. You have zero work ethic, and the only thing you seem to be capable of doing correctly around here is  _ pissing me off _ . Tell me, why the fuck shouldn’t I fire you?”

“I’m sure you’d like to,” Eren bit on instinct. He hadn't meant to, it just came out. “It would make  your life easier.” 

“Do you think my job is to make you fucking miserable, kid?” Levi boomed, grey eyes hardening like stone. The air in the room was both tense and heavy, like you could cut through the air with a knife. “I don’t give a fuck how you feel, or if you go home every night and cry yourself to sleep because of me. I have a  _ job _ to do. I run a fucking billion-dollar company, I oversee fifty snot-nosed kids like yourself on top of the  _ thousands _ of employees that work for me. You are not fucking special, do you understand me?”

“Oh, you’ve already made  that clear,” was Eren’s pitiful reply. He had meant for it to match the venom in Levi’s harsh tone, but instead, it just sounded pathetic. And if Eren hated anything, it was sounding pathetic in front of anyone whose opinion he cared about. He didn't want to admit it, but he did care about Levi's opinion. In more ways than one.

Being petty was all Eren had left in his toolbox.

Levi seemed to falter, almost, like he hadn't expected an emotionally hurt response to be something Eren was capable of giving. He had this look on his face that Eren couldn’t read. And Eren himself had nothing left to say, and only stood there with his mouth screwed shut, looking like a kicked puppy. Even more sickening, he felt the burn in the back of his throat that meant tears would soon follow if he did not get control of himself. 

_ Pull yourself together, you should just leave. _

“I didn’t—“ Levi stopped himself short. The clock ticked in the silence. There was a pull between the two of them, like electricity flowing and edging them to one another. But Eren didn’t move, despite his intense desire to just…  touch the man  _ once _ . Maybe then he wouldn’t feel so on edge all the time. But Levi continued to speak as one hand motioned in the air in a dismissive fashion. “It… the paper isn’t that bad. The revised version that you sent in. You didn’t give me the chance to hand it back to you.”

Eren’s mind went blank. “What?”

Wordlessly, Levi moved a few things aside on the desk. Then, he handed a paper to Eren, his own writing. The report he had stayed up all night to finish, to correct, from the first trial and failure. There were a few red marks and a simple comment,  _ ‘See me’. _

Eren’s skin prickled like cold air had blown by. 

“I was going to comment on the improvement, but you came barging in here with your heart-stricken display before I could. It isn’t perfect, not anywhere close. But it’s a far cry from the first shit-show you turned into me. I could tell you actually tried this time.”

Levi's voice almost sounded like televisions static in Eren's ears. What was he hearing? Was his work being  _ praised _ ? Was Levi actually commending him on his improvement for once? Eren almost felt like he was floating, tension lifting from his body. It felt a little surreal. 

Levi stood in his place, watching as Eren stared down at the paper. His expression was unreadable as he surveyed the effect of his words on the boy. Eren was barely keeping it together, like a tightly wound wire about to snap. He blinked rapidly for a moment before asking, “It's good?” 

“Not good,” Levi answered simply. “Better. The best work I’ve seen from you thus far, Jaeger.”

“Eren,” the boy hastily bubbled. His eyes met Levi’s and an expression of confusion passed over the man’s pristine features. 

“What?”

“Eren. Eren... not Jaeger.”

Even  _ Eren _ didn’t know what he was doing, but unbeknownst to him, Levi was slowly putting the pieces together in his head. The brunet in front of him was suddenly sheepish, one hand crushing the paper he held and the other gripping the side of his pants. And Levi knew.

_ It can’t be.  _

_ It's obvious. _

Cautiously, as a test to his theory, Levi cleared his throat and said, “Good work, Eren.”

Eren’s breath hitched. 

Oh.

_ Fuck _ .

He’d tried for weeks to manage one  single word of praise out of the man. Eren vowed to himself that he would pull it from him, no matter how long it took. He tried and he tried to do something,  _ anything,  _ that would make his sister proud of him, make Armin see him as an equal. To make Levi praise him. 

Eren nearly spun.

A moment passed. Levi understood, and he couldn’t deny the fascination he felt developing within him. Eren was unraveling right before his eyes. As embarrassing as this was for the brunet, Levi couldn’t help himself. The normally overly-exuberant and confidence-exuding eighteen-year-old was suddenly quiet, awed, and malleable. Levi wondered if the kid would bend directly to his will at this moment, willing to do anything Levi said. Licking his lips in thoughts, Levi tried something more direct.

“I'm proud of your improvement. Eren.”

Eren's blood felt hot in his veins. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again, unable to think and, unable to control his heart rate as it soared. Levi looked delicious, edible almost, and every word out of his mouth had Eren hanging on for the next. He felt tingly and wanted more.  _ How long could he draw this out? What was making him feel this way? _

But then Levi put an end to the whole thing. He took a seat in his chair, seemingly disregarding the mesmerized boy before him entirely. Putting his glasses back on, he picked up his pen and said, “You’re dismissed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a minute! i apologize, i'm taking three summer classes, went through a mini heartbreak, and a vacation, and now here I am. enjoy :))


	7. You're Not Coming On My Carpet, Kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! :0

Eren watched Levi from afar the entire day, which wasn't unlike any other day. The last time Eren had seen him, this enigma of a man, stoic and self-assured as he commanded the respect and attention of any room he walked into, he had blatantly suggested (and arguably fostered) sexual responses from Eren, who was almost certain he'd dreamt the entire conversation anyway. Watching Levi Ackerman, hair sometimes slicked back and other times falling loose, took up much more of Eren's time at the internship than he was keen to admit. 

There was no use denying Eren's fascination with everything about Levi, down to his strong hands, sharp jaw, straight nose, and unfortunate marriage. 

Today Hange greeted the interns with a change in routine, one Eren welcomed, while Jean muttered some unappreciative words under his breath.  "I don't want to switch stations, I like my work and _I_ actually am good at it."

Eren only looked at him briefly, too busy thinking of his own circumstances to worry about Jean. 

Eren would be working with creative direction at some point today, given a short assignment to complete, and hopefully getting the break he'd been wishing for all along. Maybe he could find a way to show Levi what he was capable of in the art realm, making the man forget all about his piss-poor writing skills. Said man was currently taking a call, cell pressed to his ear as he retreated down the hall to his office. Eren watched attentively as he went, trying desperately to ignore the way Levi's ass looked in those designer slacks. 

"I don't mind it," Louise was saying, arms crossed over her chest as she read over the day's plan. "I'm sick of looking writing public statements every day. Who pays attention to public relations people, anyway?"

Eren was spaced out, his mind swarming with ideas. He only realized Louise had been talking when she prodded him on the arm, asking, "What do you think, Eren?"

"It's whatever," was his passive response, followed by a noncommittal shrug as he attempted to appear to be indifferent.

Media strategy was more bearable than PR, but Eren couldn't focus on this rotation's assignment when he was so eagerly awaiting the next. A man named Eld headed this sector, explaining what a media representative did within the company and what his group usually did during a work-week. Eren held his chin in his hand, staring ahead and forcing himself to listen until they broke off to complete their assignment, which was to analyze two words of advertisement created for the company and predict, based on a list of qualifying elements, which one was the most effective. The word analyze nearly made Eren throw up in his mouth. 

With two hours in the day to spare, the final rotation was reached. Eren hadn't spotted Levi since he'd disappeared in his office to take a call, but Eren didn't mind. He would see the man afterward, anyway. With this bit of confidence, he listened keenly to Anka, head of the creative direction sector. She was a serious woman with short brown hair and a no-bullshit attitude, something Eren seemed to respond well to, but why could that be?

"Today's assignment is simple, and I won't bore you with details about this sector," said Anka, pulling up a site on the projection screen at the front of the sector's office area, which consisted of several large tables to seat every intern with their own set of art supplies. Additionally, there were computers at every station, waiting to be used. "I've pulled up a company that is currently within Trost's umbrella of development. Surely you've heard of them."

Eren looked at the webpage presented to the students, which belonged to Maria Jewellers, one of the leading jewelry companies in the nation, as well-known as Kay and Jared. Even if you weren't inclined to buy expensive jewelry, you had undoubtedly seen a commercial for or walked past a store of Maria's. 

"Your job is to create a new advertisement for this company, based on whatever you'd like. Pretend that it would be pitched directly to Maria's owners to be put up in Times Square, or something. In other words, take it seriously."

With this, Anka seemed to be finished talking. Eren watched as several students jumped at the chance to grab the computers, including Louise.

"I can't even draw stick figures," Louise was saying, logging into the Windows program beside him. "Doesn't this make you nervous?"

Eren was digging in his backpack before pulling out his sketchbook. Louise's eyes followed, questioning. For once, he felt confident enough to answer, "Nope."

He milked every second of the next two hours, sketching out his idea before taking a step back to critique it from afar. Then, he pondered the medium to use: paint, maybe? But in the end, Eren decided he liked the simplicity of black on white, save for the focal point of his creation, which was to be a metallic gold. 

Chatter filled the room as time went on, the interns bouncing ideas off of one another. At some point Louise sighed, placing her head in her hands. "I thought this would be a fun day, but turns out I don't know what fun even is."

Eren sent her an encouraging grin, partnered with a pat on the back. "At least we won't be critiqued on this stuff." Maybe his words held more meaning than he let on. 

Louise nodded somberly before her attention turned to Eren's project, held within his open sketchbook. She sucked in a breath of surprise, admonishing, "Don't comfort me when your work looks like  _ that! _ You never told us you can draw, I feel lied to. Where did you even come up with an idea like that?"

Eren stared at his work, as well, eyes scanning the giant, glistening golden wedding band in the center of the page before he read over the words which encircled it. At the top:  _ Reciprocity. _ And underneath:  _ You'll never know unless you try. _

"I dunno," Eren answered with a shrug. "Just sort of came to me, I guess."

  
  


Eren found himself at Levi's office door with more than one item to show for his workday. He knocked, stopping before it might've become too much, and waited. After a few minutes, the door swung open with a jolt, and a tired-looking Levi simply sighed while motioning the boy inside. 

It had gotten to this point sometime along the way; Eren didn't mind. 

"You seemed busy all day," was what Eren decided to start the conversation off with, nearly bounding into the room with a spring in his step. Levi stared incredulously in his wake, closing the door with a shove. 

"I'm busy every day, shithead. Is there a reason why  _ you're _ nearly pissing joy?"

Eren sat in his chair across from Levi's, unzipping his backpack as the man sat. Levi looked exceptionally irritated today, circles under his eyes a bit darker than normal, but Eren wouldn't have been able to say the man looked  _ bad _ even if he was on his deathbed. In fact, Levi even gave off the aura of having his guard down at that moment, too exhausted to keep up the hard-ass act he put on so well. There was a serene energy in the room for once. It was a nice change of pace.

"So, I have two things to show you," Eren said in a presentational manner, flashing a smile. 

"You should have  _ three _ assignments to turn in, remember?"

"Shh," the overly-excited brunet insisted, pulling out his sketchbook and placing it in his lap. "Are you ready? My work from last night first, because it's the least impressive."

"At least you're self-aware," said the older man, following by a deep exhale, reaching out a hand. "And brutally honest."

Eren handed the paper directly to him, wanting to get this out of the way so he could show the man what he was  _ really _ proud of. Levi took it slowly, picking up his glasses off the desk with his other hand and placing them on his nose. Eren figured he might never get tired of seeing the dark frames highlight the best features of the man's face; steely eyes, prominent cheekbones, straight, dark brows. He sat back in his chair and waited impatiently, one knee bouncing from the anxiety of it all and nails between his teeth as he watched the impassive man read over his paper. 

After a few moments, Levi placed it back down on the desk. He folded his hands over his lap and sucked on his teeth before offering, "It's not your worst work."

Eren let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, replying, "You know, I can be satisfied with that."

"You shouldn't be."

The three words had been sharp enough to slice Eren's resolve into bits, but he tried not to let it show on his features. A moment of tense silence passed between the adrenaline-jacked teenager and the exasperated CEO across from him, neither choosing to speak first and instead holding an intense and uncomfortable gaze. 

"Levi, I--" Eren tried, lurching forward just slightly as his eyebrows came together in thought, reconsidering. "I mean, sir. I've told you before that I can't write to save my life."

"You've made that clear," Levi answered, a hand moving to pluck the frames off his face.    
  
"No!" jolted Eren, to which Levi paused and gave him a look of utter confusion. "Keep the glasses on, will you? I have another thing to show you, it'll make up for that shitshow of a report, I swear. You'll love it."

"Love it, will I?" repeated Levi, frowning in a way that told Eren that the man suspected he was up to no good. And maybe Eren was, but what difference did it make?

Eren produced his black sketchbook, and Levi questioned him, "Is that yours?" 

With a nod, Eren eagerly flipped to the desired page before proudly presenting the book upon the desk. He pushed it toward the man before him and leaned back, hands folded behind within his lap as he awaited a response. Levi's eyes scanned over the sketchbook before him, and Eren knowingly held his breath this time as the clock seemed to slow and Levi's expression remained emotionless. 

After a silent moment, with Levi's eyes still on the sketchbook, he asked, "What is this?"

"It's my assignment for creative direction."

Levi could nearly hear his pulse in his ears as he stared at an _exact replica_ of his own wedding band, which was currently snuggly fit onto his left hand, in a blown-up 2-D rendition on the page. The surrounding words were a blatant-- almost crude-- homage to their last conversation, so clearly made to be a grab for Levi's undivided attention. 

Well, if Eren wanted his attention, he had it now. 

Levi opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Eren, who jumped in with, "You don't have to say it. I know you think it's inappropriate, and I probably ought to be fired for overstepping my boundaries."

Levi only stared. 

"But you have to admit that it's  _ good _ , Levi, don't you think so?"

When the raven-haired man said nothing in response, Eren's confidence and smile both faltered. 

"Um. Please say you think so."

In response, in a burst of anger, Levi stood abruptly from his chair. He gave the sketchbook one more disgusted glance before he walked directly over to the door, threw it open, and simply said, "Get out."

Eren was standing now too, a look of defeat on his face as he pleaded, "Wait, Levi, I wasn't trying to offend you--"

"And yet that's exactly what you  _ continue _ to do," answered Levi in a hiss, jerking the door opening wider before repeating, "Get out."

But Eren, with his pained expression and stupid, childish sense of entitlement, stubbornly pushed against the door with his forearm and countered, "No, I'm not leaving."

And so here they were, nearly chest to chest and directly in one another's faces, Levi with ice in his gaze and Eren with fire in his. It was unprecedented, the levels of opposition the two men represented, yet energy moved between them at such high frequency it almost materialized. The tension between them could not be denied, and Eren could feel the heat of Levi's body radiating onto his own due to their close proximity. It was as though time slowed when Eren-- who questioned whether or not it had really happened-- saw Levi's eyes flicker to his lips and back to his eyes. 

Levi desperately searched Eren's expression for any hint to deter him from what he was about to do, but found none. The brunet only dared to lean in closer. 

Using one hand, Levi pushed the door the rest of the way closed. The other found its way to Eren's hair, gripping roughly before pulling the kid down until their mouths met.

Whatever surprised sound Eren made in response was muffled fully by Levi's lips, and the two of them stumbled backward until Eren's back hit the wooden door with a thud. Eren was dazed, eyes wide open as he was pushed against the wooden frame, but it didn't last for long. As soon as he found himself up-to-speed with Levi's initiation, and convinced himself it was really happening, Eren wasted no time in putting his hands on the man. His first course of action was to wrap his arms around Levi's broad shoulders and force the man closer to him by way of his back. Levi, on the other hand, kept one hand steady on the door as he grasped Eren by the jaw and worked his mouth open in a less-than gentle manner. Levi's tongue was in his mouth within the next second and the brunet simply melted. 

Eren didn't mind this, either. He didn't mind at all. 

"You just don't know how to leave well enough alone," he could hear Levi say to him, pulling slightly back, but it sounded oddly distant as if Eren was in his head entirely. He felt the absence of Levi's tongue in his mouth and sought to quickly solve that problem, open-mouth kissing at the other's lips in a suggestion for further action. He didn't want the man to stop. Levi let out a heavy breath before pressing the lower half of his body against the front of Eren's jeans. 

"Where is your self-respect, Jaeger?"

Eren let his head hit the back of the door in response, blunt nails against Levi's fresh undercut and reveling in the way the short hair felt beneath his fingers. "At your feet, obviously."

Levi couldn't help the snort he gave in response, nor the dejected shake of his head. And then Eren was pushing at the suit jacket he was wearing, attempting to remove it from Levi's person entirely. 

"Can I be blunt?" asked Eren, who sounded a little breathless in his efforts to speak. As Levi shrugged his arms free of the jacket, he quirked a brow. Eren felt like angels sang at the sight of Levi beginning to undress before him, even if it only went this far. 

"You're quite good at that, actually."

Eren gave a smile, toothy and reaching his eyes, before he continued, "When I would come in here and you would take this stupid jacket off, it was like watching you strip for me. Sorry, was that weird to say?"

Levi tossed the grey jacket onto the chair that held Eren's backpack before he turned his attention back to the brunet himself, whose hand open-palmed against his chest through the white fabric. "Probably, but I wouldn't expect anything less. I think we're a bit beyond crossed-lines at this point."

At this, a bubble of laughter spilled out of Eren's mouth, his head tilting back slightly. Levi didn't bother listening to his better sense of self, which objected to this entire situation, and went directly for Eren's skin with his mouth, first where his neck met his ear and then traveling down to the edge of his jaw. He felt Eren's own mouth go slack at this, a sign of encouragement, accompanied by a leg slipping between Levi's in their stance. Levi would never admit just how hot his blood got at this movement, feeling Eren's denim-clad thigh against his crotch. Eren's weight was held up by the door and Levi himself, who had one strong arm holding him impossibly tight around the waist, and Eren thought for sure that he must be dreaming, overstimulated by the bare-minimum of a heated makeout session. 

And it was suffocating to have Levi all around him, in every sense, but Eren was drowning happily. Levi Ackerman, forever untouchable and unapproachable, was pressing against him and giving him the skin-on-skin contact Eren had been craving since he'd seen him for the very first time in that awful college bar. Levi was unattainable beyond the definition of the word, but he was giving himself to Eren at least in this way, and Eren was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

At this thought, Eren arched his back off the door and brought himself closer to Levi, his shameless desire for the man making itself known. 

"You're unbelievable," said the black-haired man against the skin of his collarbone, before he bit the skin there without any menace. "Finally, we found something you're good at, haven't we?"

Eren keened, the sound low and strung-out like a whine. "Levi, talk to me."

"I am, or can't you hear?"

"No," said Eren now, eyes opening to meet Levi's silver gaze, clouded over with something Eren had seen once or twice before. " _ Talk _ to me. If you can't compliment my work, you can at least compliment me, right?"

Levi paused his movements, pulling back from the bite marks that were forming upon Eren's neck. Then, the realization of what Eren was asking for hit him heavily. How could he not have recognized it before?

"Ah, I see. You want me to tell you what you're doing right, don't you?"

" _ Please _ . Anything good."

And then Eren was looking at him with this blatantly obscene look, lips parted and swollen and glossy, and Levi simply jerked the boy's face by the grip he held on his jaw until their open mouths met each other once more. 

"To start, you're incredibly good at ignoring other people's boundaries," commented Levi of Eren, who made a sound of protest that reverberated into their kiss. "But I know that isn't what you want to hear. You want me to tell you how pleased I am with you, how good you're being in this very moment, following my lead."

An eager nod was given and Levi knew he was on the right path. The desperate fingers tugging desperately at his trouser belt-loops was another good indication of that fact. 

"Spread your legs," Levi ordered, his voice low and gravelly in a way Eren had never heard before. It stirred things within him that he'd never known could be ignited by voice alone. He complied as quickly as he could, eyes scanning Levi's features for a sign of approval. The man, ever composed and stoic, gave him none. "Be quiet. Nobody can hear you, understand?"

"Yes," Eren breathed, his right wrist being pinned roughly to the door. "God, yes, of course."

Levi openly palmed Eren's crotch, earning a sharp intake of breath and the formation of an 'O' with Eren's mouth, and Levi thought he might've never seen a more arousing image in his life. How was it that some immature, moppy haired teenager could look so perfect, with lust on his face and the veins of his arm tightening as he grabbed onto Levi like his life depended on it? Levi couldn't help the fact that he wanted to see more, would do _anything_ to get more of a reaction from Eren. And as much as it should have felt wrong, Levi could only admit that it felt perfectly right. 

"Levi, ah-" Eren was saying in his ear, and Levi rolled his palm against his hardening cock. The brunet's face was flushed with a delicious pink hue and Levi was sure he probably looked just as flustered. "Touch me, just touch me, please."

And Levi did, unzipping the boy's jeans and popping the button of his fly. When his hand traveled past the waistband of his boxers Eren bit down on his lip hard, an attempt to keep quiet at the contact. Levi hated it, hated that Eren had to be quiet during all of this. He was determined to find a way for Eren to be able to cry out next time, without reserve. 

_ Next time? _

Levi cursed himself in his mind before wrapping his hand around the girth that Eren was packing. 

"You're being so good for me," the older man told him, a monotone song of praise that warmed Eren to his core. A blissful smile fell over the brunet's face, and his free hand scratched lightly at Levi's back. "Stay quiet. Maybe I'll let you get off if you do."

"Please," was Eren's pathetic response, but he didn't care how he sounded. The sight of Levi, inches from his face, slightly flushed and fully focused and utterly disheveled all at the same time was just too much, nevermind the pressure on his dick and the need pooling in his groin. He would do whatever this man asked, and would aim to do it well. "I want to touch you too, Levi."

Grey eyes met green once again, Levi's face showing a piqued curiosity and simultaneous deep thought. After a moment, he answered the request with, "Later. For now, is this not good enough for you?"

"It's good," came the breathless reply, a quick attempt to patch up any doubt that Eren may have thought otherwise. "It's good enough-- Levi, Levi, oh  _ shit _ ..."

And Levi's name somehow sounded fucking amazing coming out of Eren's mouth, a fact that Levi could _not_ have denied to anyone who asked. It sounded erotic every time the kid said it, whether it was when they were yelling at each other from across his desk or when Levi walked by while the interns worked. And Eren's face now; debauched, needy-- It was just an emphasized version of the look of longing the kid dared to throw his way on a daily basis. Like he was  _ daring _ Levi to  _ do something _ . So here Levi was, doing  _ something _ , and he didn't even regret it. Yet. 

"Hush," Levi had to say, despite the way that Eren's voice sent electricity through him. What had he regressed into, some raunchy virginal teenager? "If they hear you, we have to stop, so keep your fucking mouth shut."

Before he thought against it, Levi brought his free hand to cover Eren's mouth, who moaned directly into his palm at the contact. He was all shivers and blushes and tremors as Levi freed him from his jeans and stroked him idly. It was too  _ much _ , much more than Eren had expected for the day when he woke up that morning. This touching was more than he'd ever thought he'd receive from Levi at all and had him wondering just what he had done right to earn it. 

On top of it all, Levi was intent and  _ content _ doing just this. Touching Eren, pleasing and pleasuring Eren, watching Eren's face change at every new gesture. Levi wasn't even asking for anything in response, had even _declined_ Eren's offer. Eren felt downright spoiled as Levi toyed with the tip of his dick, thumbing the slit, eyes trained directly on his face the entire time, uninterested in the rest of the world at that very moment. Eren didn't care how much of a fool he was making of himself. He would let Levi see it if it meant the man didn't stop. 

And just when Levi sped up his stroking and Eren thought it couldn't get any better, the man said, "That's a good boy, Eren. Such a good listener."

Eren's mind went spinning at that and it was like everything he was already feeling heightened to another level. He bucked carelessly into Levi's hand, which was firm and warm and strong, spilling over with incoherent mumbling behind the cover of the man's mouth, bready to feel release. But just as it was all about to come to a climax, Levi stopped. 

Stopped, pulled away, and looked Eren directly in the face. "You're not coming on my carpet, kid."

Eren's heart shattered into a billion tiny microscopic pieces, thinking he was going to be hung out to dry, until he watched with shock as Levi Ackerman dropped to his knees before him and took Eren's cock into his mouth. 

"No," Eren breathed, and grey eyes flashed to him through thick, black lashes. Wet and warm surrounded him, and he quickly corrected, "I mean yes. Fuck, _yes_. Levi, holy shit."

And with that, Levi proceeded, bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks with a level of expertise Eren should have expected, but hadn't. He didn't even want to think about all the practice the older man likely had, Erwin's dick in his mouth-- No, he _refused_ to think about it, and allowed himself to focus  _ solely _ on the fact that Levi was sucking  _ him _ off, after he just complimented Eren's behavior. It was almost like this was a reward. 

It was _very_ much like a reward. 

It didn't take long. After a good ten seconds, Levi felt the kid go still and tightened his hand which he used to steady himself on Eren's hip. The boy shuddered slightly, filling Levi's mouth with that terrible sticky fluid Levi always underestimated the awfulness of. But Levi didn't budge. He took it all, eyes meeting Eren's impossibly hazy ones as he did so. And then he swallowed, wiped his mouth, and stood with perfect composure. 

Eren, on the other hand, sank down against the wall in a heap of exhaustion, features glazed over with bliss and looking as though all the energy had been drained out of his body. 

Watching, Levi considered if what Eren was going through now was a certain something he'd seen before.  _ No, _ probably not. But it was close. 

Levi stared down at him for a moment before he asked, "Are you good, kid?"

"'M fine," was the half-assed answer Levi received. Eren continued to breathe heavily, covering his face with the back of his hand. "Just give me a minute. It's never been like this before."

"What hasn't?"

"This," Eren said, motioning lazily to himself. "This de-escalation thing."

Levi fought back a knowing grin. God, this kid was an open book, and Levi almost felt like he knew more about Eren than Eren himself did, despite having only known him for a little over a month now. 

Squatting down, Levi peered at Eren's flushed face and closed eyes. "What do you need?"

"I-- _what_?"

"I said," Levi frowned. "What do you need? Usually, when people enter subspace, they require a certain level of attention. _This_ most likely isn't  _ that _ , but I'm not going to just kick you out after I just gave you the most unexpected blowjob you've probably ever had."

Eren stared blankly back at him, eyelids heavy as he blinked. "I have no clue what you are saying to me right now, but I think it's good."

A sigh, and Levi reached out to put Eren back together, starting with his pants and ending with straightening out his shirt. "Eren, after sex, do you feel vulnerable?"

At this, a frown. Eren asked, "What do you mean? Everyone is vulnerable after sex."

"Yes. But are you particularly affected? Dizzy, weary, unable to recuperate quickly."

"I don't know," Eren answered him, and when Levi's hand came near his face, Eren leaned his forehead into it. "Sorry, but I'm kinda still recovering from the fact that I just got a blowjob from literally the hottest guy I've ever met. Who is also my boss? Sorry, I can admit that you're hot now, can't I? I mean you did just suck me off, so..."

Levi blinked. "Wow, you just keep going, don't you?"

But Eren looked so soft and genuine with his head in Levi's palm, brown hair disheveled from their activities. He looked at Levi with a goofy smile, lopsided and blissful. After a moment, Levi retracted himself and stood again, offering a hand to help the brunet up.    
  
"Listen to me carefully," Levi said once Eren was standing and straightening himself out. "You can't tell a single fucking person about this, any of this."

"What is  _ this? _ " asked Eren, uneasily. 

"A secret. Keep it to yourself and we won't have a problem. Let it out and I will personally kill you myself."

"So, we'll do more stuff like this in the future…?"

At this, Levi eyed him carefully, and answered, "I won't make you any promises."  And then Levi turned, considering the conversation over. He moved back toward his desk, needing to cope with what had gone down as well. 

But Eren hadn't moved from his spot just yet when he asked, "And about Erwin? Your husband."

Their gazes met each other, one narrowed and one refusing to back down. 

"What about him?" Levi asked, plucking his jacket from the chair. 


	8. You Little Fucking Tease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, it's been a while. shit got crazy in my life, university started kicking my ass, but things are better now. i have more time to write, for one thing. I'll be updating the stories in order, starting with the ones that have waited the longest for an update. i appreciate any of you who stick around when these hiatuses happen-- thank you to those who have been commenting while I've been away, too. hope you enjoy this chapter :)

And so Eren went home that day in a daze. He wasn't sure if his life had suddenly become a fever dream and he just hadn't woken up yet, or if he was supposed to believe that his boss had just sucked him off in his office. Surely, it couldn't be true. 

But the fact that it was brought a giddy smile to Eren's face.

Eren wasn't keen to come down from this incredible high any time soon, and therefore resisted thinking about all of the cons to this situation. Resisted thinking about the fact that Levi was married, the fact that Eren was already a secret. The fact that he and Levi would likely never lead to anything except Eren's eventual disappointment, and possibly even a broken heart. It all depended on two things: how deep Eren's feelings for the man truly went, and how long Eren would let this charade go on. 

All of those thoughts could wait, though. For now, there was only ignorant bliss. 

In his room, Eren couldn't stop thinking about Levi's hands on his body. In his hair, on his neck, elsewhere… And not to mention the man's amazing  _ mouth _ . How was Eren going to repay him? Certainly, Levi expected something in return? And yet he hadn't asked for Eren to do anything for him when he certainly  _ could _ have asked. Eren would have done anything Levi asked of him at that moment, with those steely gray eyes looking up at him through thick lashes while he… 

"Eren! Are you going to wash these dishes or what?"

Eren brought a hand to cover his face, ashamed by the redness of his cheeks even though Mikasa was yelling from a room over. Just the fact that it was five PM and he was in his room thinking about a man's mouth around his dick while his family sat in the living room was enough to make him feel grimy. But what else could he do? Trying to put that picture-perfect image out of his mind was impossible. 

He dragged himself to the kitchen and turned on the tap, watching idly as the sink began to fill with hot water. Mikasa walked in carrying a pile of clean clothes from the dryer and raised an eyebrow at him as she passed. 

"You seem tired," she commented, tossing the clothes onto the couch for sorting. Eren glanced at her with a shrug. "Busy day today?"

"It was definitely different," he murmured in response, trying to fight back a secretive grin. "What about you and Armin? What did you guys do all day?"

"Armin went to class, I went to the store. The subway was broken down and I had to wait for an hour for it to get back up and running, but other than that, it was a pretty uneventful day," Mikasa explained as she sat down on the couch with a sigh, surveying the work before her. "I'm glad that you seem to have had a better time at the internship today."

Eren, scrub brush in hand, asked, "What makes you say that?"

"You have a goofy look on your face and you didn't even complain about having to do the dishes," Mikasa answered him, and Eren might've seen a knowing look come across her face before she turned away to begin folding clothes. 

Armin came in with his coat zipped up tightly to his neck and an exasperated look on his face not long after Eren had placed the last dish in the drying rack. The blond stomped off his boots and unzipped himself before remarking, "The weatherman said the snow was going to stop. Somehow, I actually believed it this time."

-

Eren went to class the next day and tried his best to pay attention. He was a good enough student with good enough grades, but it was hard to focus when he knew he would be seeing Levi later in the day. As soon as statistics let out, Eren slung his backpack over his shoulder and bolted for the door, determined to make it on the subway and to the Trost building before he was late. If Levi found out Eren was late, he might be less susceptible to giving Eren what he wanted. 

Walking in, Eren greeted the lady at the front desk whose name he still didn't know. She gave a short nod of her head in acknowledgment and Eren got on the elevator, along with a couple of other interns he didn't know personally. They all rode up in silence until they hit their respective floor, Eren arriving to begrudgingly to the PR section feeling more sluggish than he had when he'd made the mad dash to the subway. It wasn't that PR was the worst thing Eren could think of doing, but he much preferred creative direction, and the little taste he had gotten of it the day before made him want it even more. 

Eren knew his project from creative direction the day before had been raunchy, an attempt to grab Levi's attention. But, granted, it had worked; isn't that what an ad is all about? 

Sitting at his station, Eren nudged Louise, who had her hair up in a bun and a polite smile on her face.

"Another day," she said, voice wistful as she watched people file into the room. 

Eren finished, "Another no-pay job."

Thomas walked in, greeting the group of interns, holding a stack of different papers in his hands. "I hope you're all well-rested. Today, we have something exciting planned, as we can tell you're all getting bored with sitting around and typing all day."

Eren watched as the man began to pass back graded reports, and though,  _ Hange really has been getting her way, hasn't she? _

Thomas handed Eren's paper to him, which Eren realized consisted of multiple pages stabled together. He felt his nerves heighten in his anticipation of Levi's critiques and reluctantly began to read over the pen markings. 

It wasn't an absolute slaughter, at least. Levi hadn't  _ hated _ his report, but he did make sure to let Eren know that his vocabulary was equal to that of a fifth grader’s and that his ability to rewrite the same sentence in fourteen different variations was astounding. It was almost a compliment, Eren figured with a short chuckle, though Levi would probably have been annoyed to hear Eren consider it one. 

The second page was a hand-written note, and upon further inspection, Eren realized it was in response to his creative direction ad from yesterday. Levi's handwriting was impeccable, in thickly-inked black cursive. Eren glanced at Louise's paper, noticing that hers contained less writing than his own. 

_ Eren,  _

_ I have a feeling that you already know my critiques on this piece of bold disrespect you've conjured up. I also have a feeling that you're proud of it regardless, meaning that you have no shame; but I think we both already knew that, didn't we? I'll tell you that the concept is mediocre, though I know your intent was to hint at previous conversations of ours. That being said, the sketch is good. How you managed to replicate my wedding band after having only seen it a few times… Frankly, I don't even want to know.  _

_ In other news, you left your sketchbook in my office yesterday. I'll let you consider whether or not you should be worried about that. Before Thomas rallies you all outside, come to my office.  _

Eren blanked, laying the pages on the table before he quickly flipped them to cover up Levi's writing. Louise gave him a sympathetic smile and asked, "Was it really that rough?"

Blinking, Eren choked, answering, "What? Oh-- No, I mean yeah. It's whatever?"

Levi had his _sketchbook_ , had had it all night long. He'd had the opportunity to look through everything Eren had ever sketched within the pages, and Eren knew very well just what Levi might've found. If the man had thought Eren's sketch of his ring had been daring, just what would he think at the portraits Eren had done of Levi's  _ face _ and  _ naked body _ ? 

"Oh my fucking god," Eren admonished in a whisper as he placed his head in his hands. "I'm dead. He's going to kill me, and it’s okay, because I want to die."

At this point, Thomas gathered the attention of the interns again. "Okay, now that you've had a minute to read those over, I want to tell you all our plans for the day. Hange has decided that those of you in PR need to personally experience a journalist's workday so that you know just what you'll be dealing with should you ever enter a PR position at a company such as this one. We'll be traveling down to Daily News, so we'll be reconvening in the lobby in ten minutes."

Eren glanced around as the interns began to stand, shuffling their things together. Louise oblivious to his turmoil beside him, said, "Well, at least we'll suffer together right?"

Eren sent her an apologetic smile before answering, "Actually, I have to go talk to L-- Mr. Ackerman. I'll meet up with you, okay?"

Louise cast him a curious glance but Eren didn't stick around to see it. He was at Levi's door in a flash, knocking a few times with a heavy hand. From inside the room, Levi answered, "Door's open, shithead."

Entering without an inkling of grace, Eren nearly tripped over himself. "Where is it?" he demanded anxiously, standing before Levi with worry in his eye. Levi raised his eyebrows above his glasses in response, setting down the pen he'd had in his hand. 

"I have it here," Levi told him disarmingly. Eren tried to relax, realizing that his concern was simply making him look guilty of something. "No need to shit yourself, kid. Sit down."

Eren did as told, easing himself into the chair and folding his hands over his lap. Levi gave him a stern gaze as he reached beneath his desk and revealed the familiar black book, placing it before Eren plainly. Eren merely stared at it, wondering how much Levi had seen, and whether or not he was about to be fired. 

Levi said nothing, though. He merely watched Eren while reclined in his chair, ankle crossed over his knee, and a serious expression on his face. Eren felt himself getting hot under the gaze alone, fidgeting with his fingers as he sat across from the man. 

"Your art is surprisingly good," was what Levi finally said after a moment, his tone genuine and not at all mocking. Eren felt his breath hitch slightly, recognizing the praise in the way his body loved to. "Personally, my favorite is about halfway through the book."

Eren already knew what Levi was referencing, of course, because Eren knew his own sketchbook backward and forward. It was the sketch Eren had done soon after the beginning of the internship, an image of Levi naked but the view ended lowly on his groin. Eren didn't know why he'd ever thought it was a good idea to draw that image out, despite the fact that it taunted him in his mind nonstop for weeks. And now here the man himself was, fully dressed but wearing the exact sly expression Eren had portrayed in the sketch. 

So Eren clenched his jaw, shifting slightly in his seat. "I'm… glad you liked it, sir?"

Levi watched him closely, asking, "What made you decide to sketch that one?"

"I... wanted to see it for myself," Eren answered an honest answer, but his tone was low and unsure. Was he saying the right thing? "Drawing it from my imagination was the next best thing."

"Me, shirtless?" Levi inquired, leaning forward to place his folded hands on the desk. "That's what you want to see more than anything?"

Still, slightly on edge and unsure how to approach, Eren decided with a determined gulp to be cheeky, knowing how well his words had worked out for him in the past. Taunting Levi was exhilarating and, usually, rewarding as well. Swallowing beforehand, Eren clarified, "Well, sir, if you look closer at the sketch, you'll see that you aren't  _ just _ _shirtless_."

Eren had previously thought it impossible, but Levi broke into a grin, one he hid with a wave of his hand and chuckle into his arm. Eren was mystified. He'd never seen the man laugh even once, and certainly had never before been the one to  _ make _ him laugh. But here Levi was, having found Eren's idolization of him and bluntness both humorous and somewhat… endearing? Eren was naive, but he had no shame in his lack of experience or maturity. He merely continued to present it to Levi as if to say,  _ here, this is what I have to offer, I'm not afraid.  _ Eren wanted to have this effect on Levi forever.

"Wow," Eren voiced before he could consider it. "If I had known you'd get giggly over me telling you I want to see you naked, I would've done it a long time ago."

Levi shot him a look without any heat, adjusting the cuffs on his suit. "I am not  _ giggly _ . I have never fucking  _ giggled _ in my life."

"Right, okay, whatever you say."

The energy between them was lighter now as they sat in a room decorated with more money than Eren had seen in his entire lifetime. Levi seemed more relaxed, less stiff in the face and Eren made a vow that he wanted to see the man this way as often as possible. Eren wanted to be the one to make Levi relaxed; happy, even. 

"I know you think you're funny," Levi began to say, shaking his head slightly. "But I still expect decent work from you, Jaeger. If you can  _ assure _ me that your next report will be better than that last half-assed draft you submitted, then maybe we can work out a deal."

Eren perked up at this. "A deal?"

"Yes," Levi answered, lowering his gaze to Eren's lips briefly. Eren, in response, felt a shiver come over him. "If you submit something worthy of my time on Monday, then maybe I will let you have your wish."

His wish? What wish-- _Oh, right._ The air in the room was different once again, having changed with Levi's tone and the way he looked at Eren. It was an expression of both suggestion and caution as if saying,  _ do as I say and you'll be rewarded properly. _ Eren felt himself go slack beneath the gaze, knowing he would do whatever Levi wanted of him. He had quickly become obedient to the man, which was a phenomenon of its own; Eren wasn't quick to listen to anyone. 

"...On Monday?" Eren clarified, leaning forward slightly in his chair in anticipation. 

"Yes. Now get your ass out of my office, kid, you have a field trip to go on."

Eren stood and nodded simultaneously, all too excited to do whatever he had to do to make  _ Monday _ a possibility. But when Levi stood as well, a passive look on his face as he grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, Eren asked, "Where are you going?"

Levi raised an eyebrow at him. "I have to go, too. Nobody at Daily News is going to let a random group of 18-year-olds into their building without me there to convince them to do so."

And so they walked to the elevator together, Eren feeling adrenaline flood him at the mere fact that they were being seen together in a public sphere. Nobody questioned a single thing Levi Ackerman did within his own building, but that didn't mean their emergence from Levi's office didn't turn a few heads. Instead of shrinking beneath the attention, Eren felt smug at the idea of people becoming curious about his relationship with Levi. Eren was lucky enough to have the man's attention at all. So what if he wanted it to be known, just a little bit? 

At the elevator, Eren stood and watched as Levi swiped his iPhone over a black receptor in the wall. The employee elevator opened, the one the interns were forbidden to (and had no way to) ride. Eren perked up as Levi stepped on, and asked, "Can I just ride with you?"

At first, Levi seemed like he was going to flat out reject the idea. But then his gaze darkened slightly, and he relented. "Come on. Hurry."

The brunet slipped between the closing doors, ditching the lobby full of interns waiting for an elevator to open up. He felt privileged, like he was special-- like Levi saw something interesting in him. Something worth exploring. It made Eren want to show Levi what he had to offer, wanted to convince the man to stick it out and keep his attention focused directly on him. 

_ Husband. _ Fuck, it was easy to forget about the husband.

Eren stood beside the man in the enclosed elevator, itching to get closer. It wasn’t his fault Levi looked so damn good in that Armani suit. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t look away when Levi tightened his tie, shifted his gaze to Eren, a slight scowl on his face, and said nothing. And Eren couldn’t be blamed for reaching out and pressing every button on the elevator menu, beginning their inevitable ride up 36 floors. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Levi asked him, his voice on the verge of anger. Eren simply looked at him, mischief in his eye. "Are you _asking_ for me to beat your ass? We're going to be late--"

“I think you know exactly what I’m doing, sir.”

Another glint of that darkness from before came over Levi’s gaze, which had narrowed in lethally, as though Eren was his prey. Standing there acting coy, Eren leaned up against the wall of the elevator with a hand in his back pocket, practically already arching his back like a sly cat. 

“I have shit to do, Jaeger. I don’t have time to play these games.”

_Just go for it, he likes it when you do_ _that_. A snarky little grin slid onto Eren’s face, tilting his head to the side as he remarked, “You always seem to find the time to play my games, Levi.” 

They came together at exactly the same time in a collision of hands pulling at clothes and teeth grabbing for lips. Eren felt his hair be fisted into Levi’s hand and pulled roughly back, bearing Eren’s neck to the man. Levi wasted no time in biting and sucking and kissing the boy’s skin as they rose higher and higher, floor by floor. Eren’s hands popped Levi’s button-up shirt and needily caressed the man’s chest. 

“You little fucking tease,” Levi admonished, as though he weren't surprised but nevertheless, was disappointed. "I don't know what the hell has gotten into you today."

"Not you, unfortunately," was Eren's cheeky reply, to which Levi immediately rolled his eyes and knocked the boy upside the head. 

"Get some control over yourself, Jaeger."

Eren pouted at the reprimand and arched further toward Levi, wanting to feel the man's hands on his body. He didn't like being critiqued; in fact, it was enough to make Eren want to throw a fit. Insulting his work was one thing, but for Levi to be disappointed in Eren  _ himself _ was proving itself to be rather devastating. 

Pulling away slightly, Levi stared at the swelling lips of the kid who was directing one of his hands to his ass. Eren wasn't happy, which was clear. He was looking down at Levi-- and yes, when they were this close, Eren had to look slightly down at him-- with a pitiful expression that he wasn't even  _ trying _ to hide. Levi sighed within himself, feeling as Eren forced his fingers to squeeze through his jeans around his plump little ass. 

"What's your damage, kid?" Levi asked him, just as Eren nuzzled his face into the side of his hair. "Upset because you aren't getting your way?"

"Maybe," Eren said, although Levi only had a view of the elevator wall and Eren's wispy hair. He felt lips brush over the skin behind his ear, knowing Eren was traveling his hands around to grasp at his back. One thing was becoming clear; Eren was very needy for physical touch. "Maybe I don't like it when you're mean to me."

"I think you might've picked the wrong person to seduce, then."

This time Eren pulled back, and if Levi had thought he'd looked upset before, the poor kid was now fully distraught. Looking both defeated and annoyed, Eren removed himself from Levi's body and crossed his arms over his chest, green eyes averting to some obscure part of the elevator. Left standing there without explanation, Levi only watched before resorting to buttoning up his shirt once again. 

Levi stared, and Eren stayed silent. They hit the top floor and began their descent in complete silence, and they were nearly on the first floor when Levi finally cracked. "Are you going to fucking  _ speak _ about what has so clearly  upset you? Or are you going to pout for the rest of the day like a child?"

Finally, Eren looked at him, but with anger in his gaze and fists clenched. "Stop _talking_ to me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm immature. Like you're bothered by me. Like I'm a nuisance!"

Levi's eyes narrowed slightly. It made sense that Eren, being so sensitive to praise, would be sensitive to critiques of character as well. However, Levi didn't appreciate the tone of voice he was currently being presented with. It surprised him, genuinely, because Eren had never truly raised his voice at him in anger, even when Levi tore his work apart in disgust. AS much as he was taken aback, Levi forced himself to steel himself against reacting. Although it was becoming easier and easier to forget, he reminded himself that he was Eren's boss.   
  
"If this is the way you communicate your feelings, then you deserve to be called a child. Use your words like an adult, or don't say anything at all."

Eren said nothing. Levi leaned against the wall of the elevator and said nothing, as well. 

Finally, the elevator hit the first floor and as soon as the doors opened wide enough, Eren made a beeline. After a moment, Levi exited as well, only to find Hange standing in the lobby and looking at him with a surprised expression in the wake of Eren's emotional exit.

"Well, what the hell did you do?"

Levi breezed past her and answered, "I pay you to manage, not to meddle, four-eyes."


	9. Affluent Affair?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i am back with more from your fave borderline inappropriate relationship!!! thank you all for being patient and kindly commenting, it is my favorite thing in the world:) please enjoyyyyy

At first, Eren seemed to want to be as far from Levi as possible. The massive amount of interns flooding the lobby of Trost made this an easy feat, as the brunet could just disappear within the crowd. Levi was positioned at the perimeter of the crowd, alongside the section leaders who were forced to come along. And for publicity sake-- seeing as their trip to Daily News would attract press the minute Levi walked out of Trost-- the man prepared himself to force a halfway-pleasant expression on his face. He also checked to make sure he was wearing his wedding ring today, as he often ditched it at home when he wouldn't be risking being caught without it. He didn't want to be a tabloid story or gossip-magazine cover. 

It wasn't hard to know why Eren might've been put off by what Levi had said in the elevator, but he didn't have time to decipher a shitty kid's tantrums, and was expecting the (perfectly capable) brunet to use his words instead of pouting. However, it looked like that wasn’t going to be happening. Every time Levi's eyes accidentally caught Eren's from across the room and within the sea of people, Eren would just frown and turn directly away. 

Eren wasn't sure what he was expecting. It wasn't like Levi was going to march over to him in public and apologize. Levi probably would never even apologize in private for anything; it just wasn't the style of the millionaire CEO. And as the group began to transition outside, Eren was going frustrated that Levi seemed to be ignoring his upset state entirely. Being close enough to see the man but too far from him was proving to make Eren's skin itch, and he bitterly made his way through the crowd of interns until he was nearly at Levi's side once again. 

This didn't seem to surprise Levi, either. The man was entirely unphased even as Eren was an arm's length away, and only continued to give passive comments in reply to the demanding questions of interns who were starstruck at being this close. As the crisp New York air hit them and the noise of the street became clear, Eren realized what was happening in delayed response-- press were swarming the building, reporters and photographers and newsmen scrambling for a piece of Levi Ackerman. 

Eren, disgruntled, crossed his arms and thought, _They'll never get as close as I have. They don't even have a clue._

But that was a dangerous way for Eren to start thinking. He had to remind himself sharply that Levi Ackerman was a public figure, a married one at that. An affair-- _could it even be called an affair? They'd hardly done anything--_ would rock that world, possibly ruining the man's business and image. And most certainly his marriage. 

This reminder did not help Eren's spirits. His mood spiraled downward, and he very suddenly wanted to just go home. 

"Shape up, or go stand somewhere else."

The voice was low, barely more than a whisper, but both venomous and lethal. Eren snapped his eyes to Levi, who was regarding him with nothing more than a sideways glance. It lasted one moment before Levi was facing ahead again, posture perfect and poker-face activated. He looked regal in that stance, with flashes around him and words being shouted his way. 

"If you want to pout, fine. But don't do it in the background of my publicity photos."

Eren grit his teeth but fixed his face. His eyes regarded several of the cameras as they walked, knowing he was within the frame. Even just knowing that he'd be seen in pictures walking alongside one of the most powerful businessmen in the country lifted Eren's spirits slightly, and when Levi looked back at him as discreetly as possible, he was met with a look of determination. 

The lobby of the Daily Mail building was soon full of Trost interns, with the press having been blocked outside from entering. Levi hadn't said a single word to them in response to their questions and requests for statements, which confused Eren as they'd walked. Wasn't this a publicity stunt? Why wouldn't Levi want the good press? But these questions found answers as they entered the building; Hange was sent outside to make a public statement, one she had already had prepared. 

Glancing over at the man's cold features, Eren watched Levi interact with another incredibly wealthy looking man. Eren could only assume it was some high-up official in the Daily Mail ladder, which was confirmed when Jean, who appeared out of nowhere, smacked his arm and whisper-shouted, " _Dude_ , that's Paul _fucking_ Zwillenberg. I wonder if he flew here from London just to meet with Mr. Ackeman? Nah, he was already here, right? Goddamn!"

Eren didn't recognize the slightly older, pale man being referenced. All he was able to pick up on was how damn _good_ Levi looked, all cool and calm and in work-mode as he sparked conversation with Zwillenberg and a few of his associates. It was truly a crime the way everything Levi Ackerman owned was perfectly tailored to his body, and how easy it was for the man to dominate a room despite his shorter stature and more demure attitude. 

Levi Ackerman did not take shit from anyone, and yet somehow Eren got away with so much. 

Allowing this feeling in his chest to bubble, Eren drowned out the voices of the Daily Mail employees who were welcoming the interns to their office. This was becoming a bad habit, Eren knew; he couldn't keep ignoring his true responsibilities for imaginary ones that revolved around a man who was likely only humoring his interest. The fact that it was so hard to focus whenever Levi was around already proved that Eren was in too deep. But if Levi saw something special in him, then really, who was Eren to deny that? 

When Eren glanced to his side again, Levi was looking at him this time. He wanted to grin, but then Eren remembered that he was supposed to be mad at the man and promptly turned away. 

Now, everyone was transitioning down a hallway and being introduced to a series of offices. Eren glided along, sticking to the back of the group, where Levi brought up the rear. Person by person, Eren allowed everyone to pass him by, slowing his steps so that he could place himself closer to the man. 

He almost thought he dreamed it when he felt Levi pinch his side as he passed him, walking just a step ahead of the brunet. 

"Aren't you going to pay attention? I might quiz you on this shit, you know."

Eren looked at him, hair tucked behind one ear and arms crossed. The brunet tried to play it cool. "And what about you? What are you busy paying attention to?"

"Currently?" Levi asked rhetorically, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the eagerly listening group of interns in front of them. "A self-serving child with God-awful communication skills and a fantasy that the entire world revolves around him."

Eren tried his very best not to allow the words to affect him, knowing that this was just Levi's way of expressing frustration. _He's one to talk about communication skills._ "Well he sounds pretty awful. Why are you paying him any attention at all?"

"Is this your plan, kid?" Levi narrowed his eyes. "To corner me into telling you something you want to hear? Because that's a pretty fucked up plan."

Finally, Eren allowed himself to frown. He glanced back to the speaker of the audience, saying, "No, forget I said anything." 

Levi sighed audibly at this. Eren was rigid in his stance, pretending to pay attention to a person he'd ignored since he'd met. Levi knew it was easier to just tell the boy to get the fuck over his feelings, or to abandon the issue entirely. Eren Jaeger was not his problem. However, doing so would likely result in some repercussions that Levi didn't particularly want to face. For one, Eren could stop being driven to complete his work well, resorting back to his antics from the beginning of the internship. For two, Eren might lash out at Levi-- particularly, in public. Obvious issues would arise. For three, Eren might stop his little crush he seemed to have, and leave Levi alone with his monotonous, boring life. 

Levi didn't want that, surprisingly. 

"You did well out there," Levi heard himself say as he leaned slightly closer to the brunet. The boy's hair smelled like coconut, even though it probably needed to be washed. "You corrected your attitude when I asked you to. I appreciate that kind of effort."

Green eyes moved to Levi once again. A success. 

Had Levi delivered that same compliment differently, it would not have had the effect on Eren that it did. Had Levi addressed the interns as a group, praising their ability to adapt to his requests, Eren probably would have just zoned out as the man talked. Had Levi said that he appreciated Eren’s effort as an _employee_ , Eren would have been glad, but it would not have made his breath hitch in the same way. But Levi only ever seemed to address Eren directly, as a person, almost as an equal. His status above Eren as his boss was never unclear; and yet, when they had private conversations like this, Eren felt as though Levi was looking at him person to person, and not boss to employee. 

Or, maybe Eren was an advantageous opportunity in Levi’s eyes. Maybe Eren was overthinking the situation entirely. 

But then Levi’s eyes narrowed just slightly. Eren remembered he was still staring blankly into the man’s gaze. Amusement pulled at Levi’s lips and before the man turned away, he tugged gently at the belt loop on Eren’s only pair of dress pants. 

_Holy shit. Is he flirting with me?_ Eren’s eyes bulged as he remained frozen even as Levi’s back was turned to him. _I think he’s fucking flirting with me!_

Zwillenberg or whatever his name was seemed to be wrapping up his speech, and while most of the students were hanging onto his every word, Eren noticed a few struggling not to yawn. Even Levi was appearing to be paying attention, so Eren figured he should, too-- but his mind was racing and it made it hard to listen to the man at all. 

“We’re going to transition upstairs now,” a lady said once the stocky man handed her the microphone. People around Eren clapped politely and Eren followed suit despite the fact that he hadn’t heard a word. “We’ve prepared a few speakers and an assignment for you all as well as departmental tours, and after that, we’ll do lunch. So please, follow me.” 

The mass amount of people in the lobby began to move, all in the direction of the blonde lady on the stairs. Eren shifted as well, but Levi stayed put, not moving along with the crowd. 

Eren sent him a questioning look. The black haired man snorted. 

“Go on. I’ve got to do grown up things, do you really need to be at my side at every moment?”

Eren huffed. “Whatever.”

The Daily Mail building’s staircase was steep, glass, and stampeded by a bunch of eighteen-through-twenty-two year olds. Eren managed to get over to Jean as they walked, and the blond was still fangirling over the old man that had been talking earlier. He threw his hands around in gestures as he said, “I know everything about Zwillenberg. I mean, publicity is my _thing_ , you know? I would kill somebody to work at Daily Mail, and I’m not even kidding a little bit.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” Eren murmured. 

“Do you think I can get his business card? Fuck, I should have made myself business cards.” 

They continued onward to the second floor, Eren zoning in and out of Jean’s ramblings to give a noncommittal “uh huh” every now and again. But he wasn’t paying any attention to anything at all; truthfully, Eren didn’t care about publicity work or the Daily Mail or Zwillenberg in the slightest. It was stupid, really, that Eren was even a business major in the first place. He didn’t give a shit about any of this stuff. All he wanted to do was draw stupid pictures of a man with the most perfect side profile and get paid for it. 

_Wow, that was an annoying thought._

Arms crossed, Eren listened to the tour lady as she explained what the second floor of the building was used for. He wasn’t excited at the idea of some kind of group activity or project having been organized for the interns to do, but it seemed fitting that they couldn’t even have one day without an assignment being due. 

It was nearly three hours later when the interns were released to head downstairs for lunch. Eren had fallen asleep during every single speaker, even if for only for a few seconds before Jean would punch his arm and force him to wake up. It wasn’t that Eren didn’t care about these peoples’ time, it was just that he was bored of his mind and had a short attention span as it was. His mind was elsewhere, wondering was Levi was doing, figuring that it was probably much more exciting than what _he_ was doing. Replaying the scene in Levi’s office over and over again, but then that eventually led to the scene in the elevator, and Eren found himself upset all over again. In fact, while he zoned out from the presentations, he had plenty of time to analyze everything Levi’d said and done. So by the time they were allowed to leave, Eren was fuming once more, and had half a mind to storm downstairs and find the short man who had made him so angry in the first place to tell him all about it. 

But he didn’t know where Levi was, and that would probably not go over very well at all, so Eren followed the mass of people to the banquet hall where a buffet of sorts had been arranged and tried to suppress his shitty mood. 

They were served catered sandwiches and sides, and Eren found himself sitting with Louise and Jean, listening as the two talked over the exciting parts of the day. They, apparently, thoroughly enjoyed the speakers and the activities they had participated in. Eren didn’t feel like ruining the mood by commenting on how incredibly boring he had found it all to be, so he just remained quiet and ate his food. 

Levi appeared after some time, walking side by side with that other rich guy Eren kept forgetting the name of while they chatted about something seemingly casual. Levi was so captivating that Eren couldn’t understand how he didn’t have everyone’s eyes on him in any room he walked into at any point in time. At least, Eren figured as he took a bite of his turkey sandwich, Levi knew that he always had Eren’s eyes on him. He wondered if that thought had ever passed through the man’s mind, had ever made him smile in amusement. 

“I want to thank you all for being lovely guests and hard workers today,” said the blonde lady, once again having found a microphone and something elevated to stand on. Eren’s eyes flickered to her. “Mr. Zwillenberg hopes you all enjoyed your time here, and will be making rounds to chat with you now.” 

Levi stood in the corner of the room, continuing with a conversation he was having with a group of people who appeared to be employees of Daily Mail, but obviously higher up on the hierarchy and likely involved with the CEO directly. True, Zwillenberg began to go table-to-table, greeting the students and answering their questions and the interns practically fawned over him. As someone who didn’t even want to be a business major in the first place, Eren couldn’t care less about this man. He sat with his chin in his hand, boredom on his features, wondering if Levi had glanced over at him at all since he’d entered the room. 

Eren was going to try to behave. After all, Levi had already expressed his annoyance with him multiple times today already. 

-

Levi peeled his clothes from his body, unclasped the watch from his wrist, and pulled off the wedding band that hugged his ring finger. It had been a long day, far too stressful and Levi was relieved that it was now the weekend. Feeling less restricted, the man let out a sigh, facing himself within the mirror of his bathroom. He didn’t share one with Erwin, it was simply impossible; these days, they didn’t even share a bedroom. Levi’s neuroticism over cleanliness had long ago forced the two of them to have their own respective domains. Besides, sleeping beside Erwin was not an enjoyable experience. On the off chance that they fucked, which they hadn’t in months-- it was quick, to the point, and did not follow with physical affection. 

Levi wasn’t prepared to open his reclusive world to anyone. Everything was so serene in his space, which was solely for him, and other people only proved to wreak havoc on his orderly life. 

Well, now, Levi knew he couldn’t solely blame other people for his own impulsive decisions. Grey eyes stared into themselves through the crystalline reflection, reflecting upon the events of the past couple day. Was this who he had become? An adulterer, a CEO in his thirties who engaged in illicit affairs with his alarmingly young employee? It was almost enough to make Levi feel disgusted with himself, but the adrenaline had not worn off yet. He was still processing what had occurred between the two of them, what he had promised Eren, both with words and without. 

The smart thing to do would be to cut this off now. If Eren ran to the media claiming the CEO of Trost industries gave him a blowjob, nobody would believe him. The longer Levi allowed this to continue, the deeper the grave he dug for himself. Logically, there was no way that this could go anywhere good. 

But, for once, Levi was finding himself incapable of caring. Staring at himself in the mirror, it was clear that he was having to _force_ himself to even be concerned about something as pointless as his reputation, his image... especially when he could just focus on the thrill of his new hobby, instead.

Hot water poured over him but did not help to pull him out of his thoughts as he showered, hands moving on autopilot. The idea of being caught with Eren, of his marriage being ruined and his public image being disgraced… it should have terrified Levi enough to end it before it even began.

So why didn’t it?

“I’m going to Vegas for the weekend. Jones and Burhman want to meet with one of us to discuss their stance on the bank settlement,” Erwin’s voice intruded Levi’s peace as the man entered the kitchen, hands in his pockets and a nonchalant look upon his face. “Figured I’d go, since you hate Vegas. Well, anyway-- oh, Hell, I have plans for dinner in a half hour.” 

Levi only looked at the blond man, with his light blue button-down shirt and gray slacks, as Erwin looked frantically at his watch. 

“I have to get going, I’ll have Lauren send you the details and whatnot,” Erwin told him, taking a bottle of water from the fridge and quickly exiting the room, hand already on his phone before it began to ring. 

Lauren was his personal assistant, a 20-something year old that Levi was certain Erwin had fucked at least once. And now, as Levi watched him leave, it was almost like he couldn’t care less. Erwin fucked anything and everything he wanted, and Levi had never cared much beyond the fact that he didn’t want to catch an STD from the certified nymphomaniac. Once upon a time it had bothered Levi more, but that was a long time ago, before Levi realized just what this marriage had actually entailed. 

Levi supposed that was why the danger of his situation with Eren did not make him uneasy. What was he doing that Erwin hadn’t already done?

Unphased by the brashness of his interaction with his husband, Levi continued what he was doing, turning on the automatic tea kettle and waiting for it to heat. 

-

It was difficult not having anyone to talk to.

In fact, his desire to word-vomit about his boss and everything that had occured between the two of them was eating away at Eren. It was all he ever thought about, whether in class, or at home, or at work-- it didn’t matter. Levi continued to be at the forefront of his mind at all times, and it was beginning to become a problem.

Eren couldn’t even _talk_ to him outside of when they saw each other at the internship. He couldn’t text him, or call him, or even meet up with him like someone his age would normally do with the person they were involved with. _Involved with_ . Was that even an accurate term? Did one blowjob mean they were _involved_?

Levi _had_ promised more to come, though. That memory sent a shudder down Eren’s spine every single time. 

Okay, maybe they were involved. But did that mean Levi _wanted_ to hear from Eren outside of the internship? Probably not. After all, Levi Ackerman was far from shy. If he’d wanted to initiate outside contact with Eren, he would have found a way. It was only a matter of coming to terms with the fact that Eren liked Levi far more than Levi liked him. Eren had been fixated on him for weeks now, while Levi had probably only begun to consider him as a prospective sexual partner a couple of days ago. 

_See, this is why I need someone to talk to,_ Eren thought to himself as he sat in a downtown coffee shop, laptop having long since fallen asleep. _Maybe I should get a fuckin’ diary._

He was supposed to be working on a history project but his mind continued to shift to a dark-haired man with under-eye circles and a bad temperment. More specifically, the way his pink lips had looked wrapped around Eren’s dick in the middle of his office, in broad daylight. And then Eren would start to feel his body react and would quickly have to shake his head, shift in his seat, and try to redirect his thinking to Napoleon and the French monarchy. 

It was the weekend, and thus, Eren wouldn’t see Levi for two entire days. As desperate as Eren was to be around Levi again, he figured it was a good thing that he would be less distracted. With a yawn and another drink of coffee, Eren continued writing. 

After another couple of hours, it was getting dark outside and Eren had to make his way back to the apartment before Mikasa began to blow up his phone. With his backpack slung over one shoulder, he trudged through the cold, stopping at a convenience store for a pack of Pop Tarts to eat before classes in the morning. As the clerk rang up his total, Eren glanced around the store, his gaze stopping immediately when it recognized a face. Reaching out, he took a hold of the tabloid and stared at the front page, which Levi himself graced in an off-guard picture of him out in public somewhere at night, car key in one hand and his phone in another, clearly taking a call. 

The headline read, “Trost Industry’s Levi Ackerman makes a midnight visit to a mysterious residence”, followed by various propositions for explanation. Eren’s personal favorite was, “Affluent affair?” 

“You gonna buy that, too?” asked the clerk, making Eren jump slightly. 

“No,” Eren replied curtly, setting the magazine back in its place. “What’s the total?” 


End file.
